Saving Grace
by Winter's Light Blossom
Summary: Milton was always a loner. He shut himself off from the world and the people in it. Out of nowhere, a girl appears in his life; one that he can't seem to live without. She shows him that there are things he wants that he never knew he could have. When her life is threatened by the one person who he thought he could trust, he must choose: love or friendship. MM/OFC R
1. Prologue

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Prologue**

The rain beat heavily against the ground of the forest. Thunder clapped overhead while lightning streaked across the dark sky.

Gracelyn couldn't stop. She had to keep going. They were behind her, closing in on her now. She could hear the engine roaring beneath the thunder. She could hear the wheels screech as they turned left and right in pursuit of her. She had to keep going.

The ground of the forest was muddy, slippery. Gracelyn's left leg slides out from under her and she collapses onto the ground. Mud splashes against her face, but is quickly washed away by the unyielding rain.

She can hear voices now. Someone calling out, "Get her!" in the distance. Gracelyn scrambled to her feet and pushed on, weaving in and out of the trees. She made it to a field, open and vast. A sharp, piercing crack echoes through the darkness and sent Gracelyn twirling to the ground clutching her left shoulder.

She was shot. But the shot hadn't come from behind her where _they_ were tracking her from.

Gracelyn pulled herself to a nearby tree and pressed her back firmly against it. Shots rang out, mixing with the thunder and the roar of an engine. Lights suddenly ignite before her, washing her in white. She stood up and raised a hand to her eyes to shield them from the brightness.

The car, a black hummer, sat idle and rumbling. The passengers stare out at her from behind dark glass. Gracelyn picked herself up from the wet ground and tried to see them, but they were shadows to her. She heard the sound of a car door open and froze in her place. The man who stepped out from the driver's seat wore a bandana with a skull over the bottom of his face. Another door opened, the passenger door, and another man stepped out with the same bandana over his mouth and chin. The men moved closer, not bothering to close their doors.

"Gracelyn." One man spoke her name muffled by the bandana. Gracelyn ignored it and looked the two over. Strapped to them were automatic weapons of a large caliber. On their hips were holsters and handguns, knives and pouches full of unknown articles. She instinctively pushed herself back as tightly to the trunk of the tree as she could. Her hands found the rough bark and braced her against the tree.

This was it. This was how she was going to die. Here, in this field by these two unfamiliar men.

A third car door opened, the door behind the passenger's, and was shut with a creak. Feet shuffled and splashed in the puddles. Thunder rumbled lowly overhead.

"Can't you see that she's terrified?" A voice spoke up from the darkness, the person hidden behind the open passenger door. Another man stepped out from behind the door. Gracelyn tried to make out his face, but couldn't with the headlights blaring in her eyes. He stopped behind the other man on his side of the hummer and stared at her for a long while. "Grace?"

"Who are you?!" Gracelyn screamed over the thunder, shoulder searing with pain. She slapped a hand on the wound and squeezed her eyes shut, teeth grinding together.

"You're hurt." The man moved from the darkness and into the light, heading straight for her. Gracelyn opened her eyes, intent on seeing her end coming, but she froze when she caught sight of his face.

"No..." She breathed out, making the man halt in his pursuit. Gracelyn's eyes grew wide as her heart hammered in her chest. She shook her head several times and continued to repeat 'no' like some kind of mantra.

"Gracelyn, it's me." The man moved closer with a hand outstretched towards her. His glasses held rain droplets upon them, every now and again congregating and falling from the rims. Gracelyn's eyes stung with tears that, when they fell, mixed with the rain that trailed down her cheeks. She let out a small cry and pushed herself from the tree.

"Philip said you were dead...!" She stumbled towards him, hurried and clumsily. She began to fall, but he caught her in his arms and fell to his knees with her. Her hands wove themselves in his wet hair and she hid her face in the crook of his neck, sobbing. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, one around her waist and the other angled so that his hand covered her shoulder. He could feel her warm breath on his neck, her fingers in his hair, and sighed, tightening his hold on her.

"He said a lot of things that weren't true, Grace." He breathed out onto her shoulder and then turned his head to her cheek, kissing her cold, damp flesh. "I would never leave you. Not **there**. Not with _him_."

Gracelyn pulled back from him, keeping her hands in his hair and smiled a sad, warm smile. One hand came to his cheek, caressing it. Her fingers were rough and cold, but to him they were the greatest thing he had felt in his life. He closed his eyes and relished her caress. Gracelyn sniffled, tears welling up in her eyes again and then captured his lips with her own in a kiss filled with passion and pain.

"We have to go." A voice rang out from behind the pair. One of the men, whose face was covered by a bandana, was getting antsy. "Now."

Gracelyn broke away and stared at the man cradling her in his arms. He looked sure, confident... strong. So unlike how he had the first time she had met him. He helped her to her feet and led her to the hummer, helping her inside. He sat beside her in the backseat while the other two climbed in and took off.

Gracelyn was about to curl up beside the man in the seat next to hers, not wanting to wait for an invitation, but he beat her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head.

"We're going someplace safe; someplace far away from here where he will never be able to touch you again. I'll get you fix up and then we can do or go wherever you want." He spoke into her ear, his warm breath tickling her flesh. Gracelyn didn't care where this magical place was. She didn't care if it were truly safe or far away. She only cared about being with him, the awkward, boyish scientist that had given her hope in this Hell.

"I'll follow wherever you lead, Grace." He breathed out and kissed her head again, tightening his hold on her. "Forever."

Gracelyn wrapped an arm around him and pulled herself as close to him as she could. Her face was flush with his damp chest. She only cared about one thing in this world and his name was Milton Mamet.


	2. Chapter 1

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter One**

Gracelyn stared out the window of the hummer silently. There was nothing pleasant to look at, but she needed a distraction. She and the others that occupied the current space had just gunned down several walkers. They had been tracking them for a few days, trying to see why they moved in a herd.

"No, that's a load of bull shit!" The sudden yell made her look to the two men in the front seats.

"It is not, Kenneth." The driver retorted.

"You can't just go around doing things like that."

"Why not? It's the Apocalypse. Anything goes."

Gracelyn rolled her eyes and looked back out the window. Her brothers were arguing over something stupid again, as always, and she didn't care to get involved. She wanted peace and quiet. Even if it would only last a moment.

"If we go by that philosophy, then we'll lose our humanity."

"Most the world lost their humanity long before Z-Day."

"You are such a-"

"Oh, would you two just shut up?" Gracelyn groaned and looked at the back of their heads.

"Okay Gracelyn," her eyes moved to the rearview mirror and stared at the set of eyes looking back at her, "you're the tie breaker. This being the Apocalypse and all, don't you think it's perfectly fine to loot through houses that we come upon?"

"_Oh my God…!_" She groaned and let her head fall back against the headrest. "I swear, you two are the only people in the entire world arguing over something so stupid!"

"Well, seeing as there are hardly any people left…"

"Stop the car…! I'm walking." Gracelyn cried and looked back out the window. Something caught her eyes. It was moving fast through the tall grass. She pressed a hand to the handle on the door. "Liam, stop the car."

"You're not walking." Liam, who was driving replied and shook his head. Realization set in on Gracelyn as the figure came into view; a man, running towards the road with flailing arms.

"Stop the car!" Gracelyn shouted and unlocked her door. She grabbed her rifle from the seat beside her and opened her door. She tucked and then she rolled out of the slowing car. She got to one knee and steadied her rifle against her shoulder. She looked through the scope and found the man running towards the road.

"Please! Help me!" He called out. Behind him were walkers, a group of seven or eight. Gracelyn cocked her rifle and aimed, taking a clean shot. One walker fell and then another as her brothers climbed out of the car. Liam ran head on towards the man and grabbed hold of his upper arm, leading him to the hummer. Gracelyn and Kenneth continued to shoot until all the walkers were finally and completely dead.

Liam and the man strode up to the hummer. Gracelyn stood up and looked over at them, studying the man. He reminded her of Egon in the Ghostbusters at first look. He had brown hair, boyish looks and glasses. He was in his early to mid thirties she guessed. He clutched a notebook to his chest and looked at each of the siblings.

"Thank you." He pushed his glasses back up his nose and tried to straighten himself out. Liam and Kenneth looked to one another with wary stares, but Gracelyn never looked away from the man.

"Lyn?" Kenneth asked, calling her attention to him. She knew the look in his eyes, but she couldn't figure out why he had it.

"Lyn." Gracelyn looked back at the awkward man, who had been testing out the name. He looked at the three, realizing how it looked. He extended a hand to whoever would take it. "I'm Milton; Milton Mamet."

"I'm Lyn." Gracelyn took his hand and shook gently. "That's Li and Ken."

Milton nodded his head at them all and gave a sheepish, nervous smile. The air fell silent for a moment.

"Well, thank you: all of you." He nodded again and then began to walk down the road. He stopped several yards away and then began to look around as though lost. Gracelyn arched and eyebrow after him. She looked to her brothers, waiting for them to say something. When they didn't she narrowed her eyes, gave them 'the look' and then motioned her head in Milton's direction.

Kenneth scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest, his gun woven in. Liam sighed heavily and looked in Milton's direction.

"Hey!" He called out with his hands cupped around his mouth. "Do you need a lift somewhere?!"

Milton looked back at them and seemed to consider the offer a moment.

"Oh no! I'm fine!" He called back with another sheepish smile and a wave.

"See? He's fine." Kenneth scowled at his sister and moved to the hummer. He placed his gun in his seat and climbed in, closing the door. Liam patted Gracelyn on the shoulder and then winked at her before moving to his door. Gracelyn climbed in and rolled down her window. Liam crept the hummer along, keeping pace with Milton.

"Come on, get in." Gracelyn crossed her arms on the door where the window would have been and laid her chin on them. "It's dangerous to be walking around on your own out here."

"I'll be fine." Milton kept to his original response. He looked at her from the corner of his glasses. Gracelyn was looking down the road ahead unaware. He studied her quietly. She was unlike any girl he had seen before in this part of the state. She had natural white blonde hair with a single strip of light blue framing her face on one side. He could tell her hair color was natural by her roots and eyebrows and also by how fair her skin was. Her eyes, what he could see of them were a deep blue that lightened the closer you got to the pupil.

"Would you please just let us drop you off somewhere?" Gracelyn looked back at him. He looked away quickly, but not quickly enough. Heat rose to his cheeks, spreading like fire across his face. Gracelyn gave a small smile. "I would feel awful just leaving you out here on your own."

Milton stopped. The hummer halted. Liam looked back at Gracelyn, watching and listening carefully. He knew she would convince him. It was her superpower; persuasion.

Milton stared out down the road. Bodies laid sprawled out on it here and there as a reminder of the times they were living in. He then looked to his right at the field he had been running through. His mind shot to where he was heading, who he was heading to. Could he trust these people to bring him home? Could he trust bringing them into his home?

"Let us take you where you need to go." Gracelyn pleaded softly and lifted her head from her arms. Milton looked at her from the corner of his eyes again. She could see he was thinking very hard on the offer. "Please Milton."

That was it.

Milton nodded his head and then walked to the door and opened it. Gracelyn slid across the seat to the other side, smiling. Milton climbed into the hummer and shut the door, placing the notebook in his lap.

"So, where to?" Liam asked, looking in the rearview mirror at their new guest. Milton looked up at him and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

"A few miles down the road there will be a turn off. Take that and keep on it for a few miles. You'll come upon a town. You can't miss it." Milton replied. Liam nodded and began on their path down the road.

"A town huh?" Kenneth asked and turned around in his seat to look at Milton who sat behind him. "Does it have a name?"

"Yes, Woodbury." Milton replied.

"Is it just you there?" Gracelyn asked and looked over at him. Milton turned his eyes to her and just stared for a long moment.

"No, there are many people living there. It's safe." He replied simply and then looked out the window to his right. Gracelyn's eyes slowly crept up to meet Kenneth's. He felt it too. Something was wrong with this; something was wrong with _Woodbury_. There were no safe places left in the world.

"And these people, your people, are they... friendly?" Gracelyn asked slowly.

"You're not walking into an ambush or anything. It's just a town with some walls put up to protect the people still living there." Milton answered and gripped the notebook in his lap tighter. "You can get something warm to eat, take a shower, and sleep on an actual bed."

Gracelyn looked to Kenneth again. Kenneth looked to Liam. It had been a long time since any of them had slept on a bed or taken a proper shower.

"We're all there for the same thing." Milton's voice was soft, almost far away.

"And what's that?" Kenneth asked, looking back at Milton.

"To survive." Milton met Kenneth's gaze. "Isn't that what you're trying to do? Surviving?"

"Is it okay that we're going to Woodbury?" Liam asked suddenly and looked back at Milton through the rearview mirror. "I don't want to step on any toes."

"I'm sure it will be fine. The Governor is a sensible man and you three are good with guns. I'm sure he'll welcome you with open arms." Milton's response sounded strange to Gracelyn. It seemed foreboding and wrong. "You'll fit right in, in no time."

"Is this the turn off?" Liam asked and slowed the hummer.

"Yes, that's it." Milton replied. "About eight miles down there will be another road."

Gracelyn looked back out her window and leaned her head against the cool glass. The promise of safety, of normalcy, seemed too good to be true.


	3. Chapter 2

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Two**

It took longer than anyone of them had expected to get to Woodbury. While it truly was a town, it was hidden behind neighborhoods and a set of forest.

"You weren't lying when you said there was a wall." Gracelyn piped up and looked out the front windshield at the wall that surrounded the town. Atop of it were three men with semi-automatic weapons.

"Stop here." Milton instructed. Liam pulled the car to a halt and Milton stepped out. He closed the door to the Hummer and looked up at the men on the wall. Gracelyn slid across the seat and lowered the window to hear what would be said.

"Well, well, well," One of the men called out and lowered his weapon, "Look who decided to show up. Thought you ducked tail and ran."

"Open the gate Martinez." Milton called back, notebook clutched at his side.

"I don't take orders from you." Martinez snapped back.

"No, but you do take them from me." A voice came from somewhere unseen. A man climbed the other side of the wall and stood several feet from Martinez. Gracelyn looked up at the man from inside the Hummer. He was tall, well-built and had a resolute disposition about him.

"Who is that?" Gracelyn asked from the open window. Milton looked to her and took a step closer to the car.

"That's the Governor." He replied.

"Who's in the car?" The Governor called out, eyes narrowing as he watched Milton back away from the window.

"The people that saved me." Milton replied and walked closer to the wall. The Governor crouched down to lessen the gap between them. Milton looked back at the Hummer and then up at him. "There's a woman and two men. I think they're siblings."

"They armed?" The Governor asked and looked back at the Hummer. He couldn't see anything through the windshield, the shade too much on the glass. There were no weapons attached to the outside either.

"Yes." Milton replied and followed his eyes. "I only saw a few rifles."

"They any good?" The Governor asked and watched the dark vehicle carefully.

"Yes, military I think." Milton looked back up at the Governor. The Governor looked back down at him and ran a hand over his mouth.

"Can we trust them?" He asked carefully, making sure his expression conveyed a message to the skittish man. Milton nodded. "Martinez! Jacobsen! Open the gate!"

Martinez looked to Jacobsen and another man and motioned for them to open the gate. The four of them climbed down and soon the gate opened to reveal the road into the town. Liam drove the car slowly into the town and stopped when told to. Gracelyn stepped out of the Hummer first and closed the door. She was amazed. The town looked untouched from all the evil outside the wall.

"It's not much," Milton walked up beside her and looked around the town with squinted eyes behind his glasses, "but it's safe."

"It's wonderful." Gracelyn smiled and looked to her brothers who were taking in the sight.

"Welcome to Woodbury!" The Governor's voice boomed. He walked up to the Hummer and places his hands on his hips, smiling at them all. He looked each of the siblings over. They all looked like they had been through Hell and back, having spent so much time on the outside. The two men were both tall with broad shoulders and muscular. They carried their weapons across their shoulders, one holding it tightly to his side. The Governor's eyes drifted to the girl that talked quietly with Milton, the resident researcher. She seemed out of place amongst the men she rode in with. She was tall for a girl five-eight maybe five-nine or so. She had a thicker athletic build, muscles clearly in her legs. All three of them were fair-haired, fair-skinned and resembled each other. Milton was right.

"Siblings I take it?" The Governor asked and looked around at the three newcomers again. Gracelyn looked to her brothers, unsure whether or not to say anything.

"Yes sir." Liam spoke up and outstretched a hand to greet the host. "I'm Li, that's Ken and Lyn."

The Governor took his hand, shaking it firmly.

"Around here I'm called the Governor. Thank you for helping Milton." The Governor returned his hands to his sides and nodded at them.

"It was all Lyn." Liam nodded towards his sister, who looked up at the mention of her. "She's the one that spotted him in the fields."

The Governor walked up to Gracelyn and smiled down at her.

"I can't thank you enough Miss Lyn. I don't rightly know what we'd do without Milton here." The Governor nodded his head at her and kept his eyes glued to her face. "Is there anything our quiet little town can offer as thanks?"

"Uh, well," Gracelyn looked to Milton beside her, who was staring at the ground. "Milton mentioned something about you all having showers."

"And beds." Kenneth piped up, hand resting on his submachine gun. The Governor looked over at him, noticing the gun then.

"Sure. Beds, showers, a hot meal," The Governor looked back at Gracelyn. "Perhaps a new set of clothes too?"

Gracelyn looked over herself. Her clothes were pitiful. A tank top peeked out from the rips and tears in the t-shirt she wore. Holes in her jeans, her shoes scuffed and falling apart.

"Not if you can't spare any." She replied, feeling as though they were intruding. She felt like an orphan found out in the middle of the woods. This town, these people, appeared so put together. It seemed surreal.

"I'm sure we can find somethin' to your likin'." The Governor smiled. "I do however ask, as a precaution, that you hand over your weapons."

Gracelyn looked to her brothers. It was logical. It was their town and her family was the outsiders. However, it just didn't feel right.

The Governor could sense their hesitance. He looked around at the three and then to some of the townspeople who had gathered to see the commotion.

"It's only until we know we can trust you." He spoke gently, trying to coax them into giving into his one demand.

Gracelyn looked around at the townsfolk. They seemed like average homebodies. None appeared to have military training or any combat training of any kind. Perhaps too long on the road in Hell had made her suspicious of every kindness that appeared to her.

Gracelyn moved to the Hummer and opened the door. She took hold of her rifle and dragged it to her. She looked it over and then removed the scope. She moved back to the Governor and handed it to him.

"Until you can trust me." She announced and gripped the scope tightly. She looked to her brothers. Liam was already removing his 'sledgehammer', a MPS AA-12 assault combat shotgun from his shoulder. Kenneth, however, was reluctant.

"And how do we know we can trust **you**?" He questioned, eyeing the Governor. Kenneth was always the troublemaker. Always suspicious, a hot head, the tough guy. The Governor looked over at him. His once gentle smile had turned into a darker smirk.

"Who says you can?" He retorted and looked around at the people. "But this here is my town. These are my people. If you want to stay, then you're gonna have to follow some rules."

Kenneth didn't crack under the stare the Governor gave him.

"And as I already said, you can have your weapons back when I know you ain't gonna use them on any of us." The Governor's gaze never faltered. Neither did Kenneth's.

"Ken," Gracelyn breathed out and looked to her brother. He didn't even look back. He took a step closer to the Governor, both men used to being Alpha dog. He searched the Governor's eyes and pulled the strap to his machine gun over his head, handing it to him.

"Are there any others?" The Governor asked, looking from Gracelyn to Liam. Liam shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Just some hunting knives and ammo." He replied. The Governor nodded and looked back at the Hummer. "You can park that over there."

The Governor pointed to where several other cars sat by the gate.

"Jolene!" The Governor called out. A young girl, just older than nineteen, with dark hair and a slim waist came out from the crowd. "Show Li, Lyn and Ken where they'll be stayin'."

Jolene looked at the three and then motioned for them to follow. Gracelyn watched Liam walk by Kenneth, dragging his younger brother along by the shoulder. She looked to Milton and smiled. She walked past the Governor to catch up to her brothers, but was stopped by his hand on her arm.

"What's that you got there?" He nodded his head towards her hand.

"It's the scope to my rifle." She replied and showed him. "It has sentimental value."

The Governor nodded his head and let her arm slip from his tender grasp.

"I'm sorry about Ken." She apologized and then walked after her siblings. Milton walked up beside the Governor and watched her walk away.

"That one, Ken," The Governor started, "He's gonna be trouble."

"What are you going to do?" Milton asked, wary in his voice.

"They can stay. For now." He looked to Milton, guns in his hands and one over his shoulder. He motioned for Martinez and Jacobsen to come over. They formed a small circle. "I want details on them. Martinez you watch Ken. He seems like he's gonna start trouble; I want to know about it. Jacobsen, you're with Li. I don't think he'll be a problem. He and the girl seem to be the only sensible ones."

"What about Lyn?" Milton piped up and looked to the Governor.

"I'll do it." A man with a deep, southern drawl walked up to the group. His right hand missing and replaced with a metal contraption. "I'll take good care of that fine thing."

The Governor looked to the man and nodded slowly.

"I'll watch her." Milton cut in suddenly. He swallowed hard, realizing that everyone was now looking at him.

"Well, I'll be damned. Milton does fancy girls after all." The man laughed and the other two guards along with him.

"I need an extra pair of hands with my research." Milton tried to ignore the look the stumpy armed man was giving him. The Governor looked at Milton and considered it.

"Oh we know the real reason why you want those hands." The man bit his bottom lip, "Mhmm. That we do."

"Stop it Merle." The Governor commanded and looked to the guard. "I don't want you two startin' trouble. Milton, you watch Lyn. Don't take her to the lab just yet though."

Milton nodded and took a step away from the group. He headed down the road of Woodbury towards a building. The guards were ordered back to their posts and the Governor headed on back to his home.

Gracelyn watched them disperse from the window of the room that was given to her. She watched Milton head to a building towards the edge of the town and down an alley. She questioned where he was heading for only a moment before heading into the bathroom that adjoined her room. She moved to the shower that was also a tub and turned on the water. It warmed almost instantly. She stripped of her clothes and stepped into the refreshing water, letting it rinse away all the nightmares she had lived through.


	4. Chapter 3

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Three**

It had been two weeks since they had arrived to Woodbury, home of denial. They had been given new clothes, toiletries, their own rooms, a bed, and warm meals.

Gracelyn stepped out of the bathroom and walked to the dresser that sat right outside the door. She opened the top drawer and pulled out a fair of cotton panties and a bra. She pulled on her jeans and a green t-shirt, then moved to her shoes sitting by the bedroom door.

A knock came from the door. Gracelyn, without standing from her seat at the small table that sat between the door and the window, opened the door to reveal Milton.

"Good morning." She greeted with a smile as she tied her shoes.

"Morning." He replied with his hands clasped before him. Gracelyn finished with her shoes and looked up at him. She arched an eyebrow and smiled, waiting for him to say something. She laughed and stood from the table. She moved to the dresser and plucked a well used hair band from the top.

"Did you need something?" She asked and watched Milton in the mirror. She racked her nails through her hair as a makeshift brush with the band in her mouth and then tied it back in a simple pony tail.

"The Governor would like to invite you to breakfast." He announced, almost reluctantly and looked back at her reflection. She ran a hand over the end of the pony and then turned to him.

"Not to sound rude or anything, but why?" She asked and walked into the bathroom. She flipped the light on and placed her wet towel on the hook behind the door.

"Just wants to see how you're settling in, I suppose." He replied and looked about the room. In the short time that she had been here she had made the room her own. A picture sat on the nightstand in a simple black wooden frame. Milton examined the people in it; a family photo.

"Just me?" She questioned as she picked up the smallest eyeliner pencil in the world. She lined her eyes, top and bottom, and then found the nearly empty bottle of mascara. It was stupid, she knew that, to want to use makeup, but it made her feel _normal_.

"Yes." Milton answered quickly.

"couldn't he have asked me himself?"

"The Governor likes to make a show of things." Milton replied and straightened his plaid shirt. Gracelyn walked out from the bathroom and looked at Milton.

"Am I under dressed?" She asked, looking at how put together he was compared to her. Milton gave a sheepish smile and shook his head. She smiled back and headed for the open door. Milton led her down the road to an apartment building. He led her up the stairs to the second floor and then knocked on one of the doors. It opened to reveal the Governor.

"Ah, Miss Lyn!" He greeted with a charming smile of white teeth. She smiled back politely and waited to be invited inside. "Please come in."

She did so with Milton right behind her. His apartment was put together and clean. Everything had a place and was in that place. On the rough table ahead was breakfast. Gracelyn could smell the sausage and coffee wafting about the room.

"Please, have a seat." The Governor outstretched a hand towards the table. Gracelyn moved to a seat only to have Milton pull it out for her.

"Thank you." She spoke and he nodded as she sat, pushing the chair in for her. He took the seat beside her and watched her look over the table. He could hear her stomach grumble with hunger and felt his own speak up. The Governor moved to the kitchen and opened the fridge. "Is there somethin' I can get you to drink?"

"Water if I could please." She answered, staring across the feast at him. The Governor nodded and looked to Milton, seeing he was pouring himself a cup of tea. The Governor filled a glass full of water and returned to the table, taking the seat across from Gracelyn. He handed her the glass. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome." He replied and leaned back in his seat. He took up his half empty glass of what appeared to Gracelyn as whiskey and sipped it. Gracelyn looked between the Governor and Milton, silence befalling the room.

"So," she started hoping to find out why she was brought her. The Governor gave a laugh and set his glass back on the table.

"You'll have to forgive me. This must appear quite strange to you; me inviting you to breakfast and all."

"It did cross my mind." She replied and batted her eyelashes for effect. "Milton said that you wanted to see how I was settling in."

"That among other things."

"What other things?" She knitted her eyebrows together in question. What kind of a game was this man playing with her?

"Well, get to that a bit later." The Governor cracked a smile and picked up a plate of eggs. "First, a home cooked meal."

Gracelyn took the eggs from him and took a side glance at Milton. He sipped his tea quietly and then caught her gaze. He smiled and then looked away, quite suspiciously to Gracelyn. She dished herself out eggs and sausage, a pancake with butter and syrup. She ate quietly until a question arose.

"How do you like your room?" The Governor asked before forking a piece of sausage and eating it.

"It's nice. Cozy." She replied and took a sip of her water.

"And the town? How do you like it?"

"Nice. Cozy." She recycled her response. She looked across the table at him and forced a smile. "People are real nice too.."

"We're pretty lucky." He took a sip of his whiskey and watched her eat. "There were more of us at the start of things."

"I'm sorry." Gracelyn was sincere. The Governor shook his head and smiled.

"Don't be. You know how things go."

"Yeah, I do. Better than I would like to." She twirled her fork in her hand and looked down at her glass of water.

"How long were you and your brothers alone for?" Milton asked suddenly and set his cup back on the saucer.

"A year. We've just been moving around from place to place." She looked over at him and shrugged. "It wasn't so bad."

"At least you had each other." The Governor spoke what she was thinking. She raised her eyes to his and slowly nodded.

"Li, he the oldest?"

"Yeah, then Ken and me." Gracelyn took a deep breath and set her fork down on her plate.

"Parents?"

"Probably gone." Her response made the men look to each other.

"You don't know?" Milton asked and leaned closer. Gracelyn shook her head and sighed.

"I was away at school when all of this happened. My brothers were enlisted. So, mom and dad were on their own." She explained and looked down at the half eaten pancake on her plate. She pushed the plate away and leaned back in her chair. "They could be alive, but..."

The Governor nodded his head and leaned forward. He rested his arms on the table, crossing them and looked down at the food.

"What school were you at?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Duke. I was an Ancient Studies major." She scratched the back of her neck and then looked around the apartment again.

"And your brothers were enlisted. Army? Navy?" He asked nonchalantly, but Gracelyn heard the tone beneath it all.

"Are you asking me if they're dangerous?" She called his bluff. The smile slid from his face. He laced his hands on the table and looked down at them for a brief moment.

"Can you blame me?" He asked finally and met her stare. "I have people to protect; children, the old. I don't want to be invitin' trouble."

Gracelyn watched him a moment and then licked her lips.

"What do you mean?" Her question was slow and calculated. The Governor looked over at Milton, exchanging a look. She looked between the two, losing her patience. "What is going on?"

"It's nothin' to get upset about." The Governor announced and looked over at her. She turned her head slightly and narrowed her eyes. "I'd just like to know who y'all first."

"First?" She could see she was testing his self-control. He managed though and ran a hand over his mouth, leaning back in his seat once more.

"Before we ask if you'd like to remain here as citizens of Woodbury." The Governor gave in and downed the last of his glass of whiskey. Gracelyn looked to Milton and relaxed at the sight of his humble expression.

"You're serious? We can stay?" She asked slowly, unbelieving what she had heard. The Governor smiled genuinely and nodded his head.

"You can, if I know that you and your family won't be a problem." He explained. Gracelyn looked down at the table and licked her lips.

"I'll tell you whatever you want to know about myself, but as for Ken and Li," she looked back at him again and shook her head, "you have to ask them. It's not my place."

The Governor nodded slowly, seeming to understand.

"Alright. Fair enough." He agreed and looked over at Milton, who had been far too quiet for the Governor's liking. "Milton tells me you've been a pretty good assistant to him so far."

"Oh he has, has he?" Gracelyn's eyes move to Milton. He looks away, pretending to be engrossed by something else across the room. "And here I thought he liked me for my company and quick wit."

The Governor laughed as Milton excused himself from the table to go use the restroom. Gracelyn's gaze followed him with the shaking of her head.

"He says you pick things up pretty fast; work faster and hard."

"It's a learned behavior in my house. Father was always on your case if you didn't do what you were told when he asked and the right way."

"I'm sure he's been keeping you pretty busy."

"You could say that. It's tedious stuff, but there's a lot of it."

"He's an odd one, that boy."

"Can I ask how you two met?" She inquired, not really expecting him to answer her. The Governor gave a small laugh at some thought he had and looked up and away from her.

"It was a few years ago. Happen by chance alone." That would be the only answered he gave her, that she was sure of. "Now, he also mentioned that you're a good shot with that rifle of yours."

The Governor's expression changed. Gracelyn met his stare, but was unable to keep it. She wasn't her brothers. She wasn't a soldier.

"Where'd you learn to shoot?"

"My father and my brothers. They used to take me hunting with them." She squirmed at the thought.

"I take it you didn't like that?"

"No, I'm a girl." She began with a sarcastic tone and took hold of her glass. She took a sip and set it back down, but didn't release it. "Killing cute, furry little animals is a sin."

The Governor gave a huff of a laugh as Milton came back out from the hall. He moved back to the table and sat down again, chancing a look in Gracelyn's direction. He picked up his cup and sipped his tea sheepishly.

"Your father military?"

"Was. In my senior year at Duke he retired. Made it to general just like his father and his father before him."

"Your mother?"

"She was CIA." She replied, noticing the look on the Governor's face. "I'm just messing with you. She worked secretary jobs until she had us. Then she became soccer mom and ballet mom and football mom, etcetera."

"Rifle the only thing you know how to use?"

"No, I can use a handgun, a shotgun, but I'm best with my rifle." Gracelyn was about to go on about how horrible she was hand-to-hand, but stopped herself. She still didn't know who these people were. Milton, she knew. He was every geeky, nerdy boy in school that her classmates mocked; shy, awkward and smart.

The room fell silent a moment. A clock somewhere in the room ticked away. The Governor narrowed his glance at her.

"Were you ever in the military?"

"Nope, not unless you count Beach Bodies Boot Camp." She replied with a sardonic smile. "I couldn't deal with the bloodshed. That's one reason why I decided to switch from veterinary science to Ancient Studies in college."

"Why Ancient Studies?" He asked calmly and Gracelyn shrugged. She had never really thought about why before. It had always been 'because'.

"I'm a bit of a history buff. Always loved Ancient Rome and Egypt. Always had to go to the museums on family road trips, see art galleries, and sightsee. So I decided to make a career out of it. I was working on my Doctorate when the world crashed and burned."

"What did you want to be?" Milton piped up from beside her. She looked to him and spoke with a straight face.

"Indiana Jones." She could see from the smile on the Governor's face that he knew she was being playful. Milton, however, seemed to believe she was serious.

"It's a joke Milton." The Governor gave a small laugh and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I wanted to be a professor." Gracelyn answered seriously and smiled at the nervous man beside her.

"Well, Miss Lyn, I think you're gonna fit in just fine around here." The Governor announced and stood from the table. He walked to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of whiskey. He looked back at the table and watched Gracelyn talking to Milton. She placed a hand on his forearm and laughed, trying to get him to lighten up.

The Governor poured himself a tall glass of whiskey. He sipped it with a dark gleam in his eye as he stared at Gracelyn.

"You'll fit in _perfectly_."


	5. Chapter 4

Is it weird that I get giddy when I write about a nerd and the damsel in distress getting ever closer to one another?

Rate and review, please and thank you!

- Winnie

* * *

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Four**

Gracelyn stood at her window, staring out over the dark town. The lights had been extinguished and now only torches and flames here and there remained. She guessed to conserve energy. Jolene had come by again with another set of new clothes, courtesy of _The Governor_.

She was grateful for everything the Governor had provided her and her brothers with. But his attention seemed solely set on her since his breakfast party a week ago. She had gotten new clothes, new shoes, makeup, new sheets, and other smaller trinkets. It was becoming unnerving. Kenneth teased her, saying the Governor _fancied_ her. Liam usually rolled his eyes and insisted that the Governor was simply being nice by giving her items he felt she needed and to not read into it.

The Governor had charged them all with 'jobs'. Liam and Kenneth usually stood watch on the walls while Gracelyn played apprentice to Milton. She helped him collect certain flowers and herbs, sorted out papers, even took dictation. She had yet to be allowed to follow him down the alley, though she had followed on her own accord several times. What lay hidden on the other side of the door was a complete mystery to her.

Things were good here. There were warm meals, a warm bed and people. Real, living, human people. They were nice, most of them, a few bad apples like Martinez and Merle, but they all cared. They were all surviving here together like a family.

The Governor had invited her and her brothers to join that family. Trusting that they wouldn't make waves. He had even gotten her brothers to admit what sections of the military they were in; Marines and a Navy Seal. He was surprised to say the least. If they stayed they would have permanent rooms, permanent jobs; a steady life in a world of chaos.

How could anyone say no?

Her brothers weren't _anyone_. Kenneth didn't even consider it. He had gone off the handle on Gracelyn when she told them with a grin. He called her naïve, a child, and a slew of other names. He had wanted to leave the day they had come, but had put up with it for this long because of her and Liam. He didn't trust these people. Most of all, he didn't trust the Governor and the webs he spun.

Liam had sung a different song. He had actually taken a few days to think on it. Finally, however, he had decided to agree with Kenneth. He too didn't trust the Governor even though he told Gracelyn not to worry about him and his gifts. He had said something was off with this whole set up. The random scouting missions to find survivors only to come back with no people, but all sorts of new toys. He had tried to join one day in a scout, but 'The Governor says not yet' had stopped him. It was suspicious.

So, Liam and Kenneth decided they were all leaving. At the end of the week.

Gracelyn was torn. She didn't want to, but she was going to have to choose: her brothers or this dream called Woodbury. She couldn't have both.

Gracelyn crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her forehead against the window. It was cool to the touch and her warm, moist breath fogged it below her nose. The building that she had been placed in with her brothers was quiet. She assumed that at one point it had been someone's home, but now housed whoever needed a bed.

The guards moved back and forth on the wall, surveying for any signs of trouble. She had yet to hear them shoot at anything. Not that they appeared as though capable of hitting a target. They all were inexperienced in combat. They were 'townsfolk', _civilians_ as her brothers called them.

A small knock came from the door. Gracelyn moved from the window and answered it. Liam and Kenneth stood there, one leaning against the doorframe while the other was straight. She noticed the pillow Liam carried beneath his arm and smiled.

"Camp out?" She asked and looked up at him. Kenneth pushed his way into the room and jumped on the bed.

"I'll be taking this." He announced and closed his eyes, feet dangling over the side of the bed. Liam moved inside the room and threw the pillow to the ground along with the blanket he had hidden from sight. Gracelyn closed the door and moved to the bed, pulling back the covers. She climbed in and pulled them up to her chest, staring at the ceiling. She could feel Kenneth's elbow poking her feet from where he lay.

"Is this real?" She questioned softly. Kenneth turned his head and peered at her through the darkness, green eyes seeming to glow in the moonlight.

"It is until it isn't." He replied cryptically. They were the closest in age. Liam being the oldest by eight years and then Kenneth by two. Leaving Gracelyn to be the baby.

"You think this is just some scheme?" She asked gently, staring down the covers at him.

"Of course." Kenneth scoffed and flipped over onto his back. "Just because you stop believing in reality doesn't mean it goes away. They're fooling themselves and you."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing until it gets someone killed." Liam retorted from his place on the floor.

"Or worse: turned into one of those damn zombies." Kenneth agreed with his brother and stared long and hard at Gracelyn. "Ignorance is bliss, but it can be just as bad as arrogance."

The room grew quiet. Kenneth slowly drifted off to sleep, his soft breaths becoming a lullaby. Liam shifted on the floor and then sighed.

"The Governor _wants_ us to stay." She piped up. "He told me yesterday that he needs good shots like us."

"I know. He told me the same thing." Liam replied, opening his eyes and staring at the bathroom door across from him.

"So we're really going to leave at the end of the week? Just like that?" She asked after a moment of silence only to be greeted by more. Liam didn't know what to tell her. Kenneth and he wanted to leave. Had since the first night in the town. Gracelyn would follow if they told her to because they were her older brothers. She might bitch and moan, but she would do it in the end. Even if she didn't want to.

He heard the bed move and then the soft padding of feet across the floor. He picked himself up a bit and watched as Gracelyn put on her shoes.

"Where're you going?" He asked, startling her. She looked over at him and then motioned with her fingers that she was going for a walk. He didn't like it, but she was an adult. She could do what she wanted. He nodded his head and watched her slip out the door.

Gracelyn walked out into the crisp, cool night and wrapped her arms around her. She began to walk mindlessly through the sleeping town, looking at the buildings and the landscaping that the people actually bothered to keep up with. She found a bench amidst a row of bushes and decided to sit.

Woodbury was so quiet; so peaceful.

It put her on edge.

"Oh, hello." Gracelyn turned to her left and gave a small smile at Milton. In his arms were some bottles and his trusty notebook.

"Hey." She greeted back and then looked back out across the street. Milton noticed the look that crossed her face. He knew that look. After seeing it consistently for three weeks he understood what was going through her mind when that look appeared. "Does it ever scare you?"

"Does what?" He asked and knitted his eyebrows together, struggling to keep a hold on the bottles in his arms. She licked her lips and then clicked her tongue.

"All of this." She gave a dejected laugh and motioned to the empty street.

"Why would it scare me?" He moved closer to the bench and sat down, placing the bottles on the ground by his feet.

"Because one day you could lose it all." She looked over at him. He could hear the sadness in her voice. "All these people; your friends, neighbors. One day you'll wake up and..."

She didn't have to finish her sentence. He knew what he may one day wake up to.

Gracelyn wrapped her arms around herself tightly to fight the breeze. Upon her skin arose goose bumps. Milton looked down at himself and then as a second thought began to pull off the light coat he had on.

"Here" He offered it to her, placing it over her shoulders. Gracelyn looked to him. She gave a ghost of a smile and thanked him softly, pulling on the coat to wrap it around her. "Does all of this have anything to do with deciding whether or not to stay here?"

"Yeah." She admitted and looked up at the night sky. "I told my brothers that the Governor wants us to stay, but my brothers want to leave."

Milton looked down at the notebook in his lap.

"And you?" He asked after a moment. He traced the binding mindlessly. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know." She gave another dejected laugh and shook her head. "This, all of this, is wonderful and terrifying at the same time."

"Because it could all be gone tomorrow." Milton surmised. Gracelyn nodded and sighed heavily. She looked over the buildings. People, living people, were sleeping in their warm beds; safe and secure.

_For now…_

She looked down at the sidewalk her feet sat atop of. The shoes she was given were simple and bright white with no arch support; tennis shoes. She gave a small laugh and licked her lips.

"I'm wearing tennis shoes." She piped up, feeling silly in the insensible footwear. "I'm wearing stark white tennis shoes in a zombie Apocalypse."

Milton didn't exactly see the humor in her words. He watched her carefully as she gave another laugh and ran a hand through her hair. It seemed to shimmer in the moonlight like spider's silk.

"What happens if I stay and my brothers leave and then this whole dream goes to Hell?" She looked over at him and shook her head. She gave a shrug. "I don't know what I would do."

"But you do want to stay. Don't you?" He asked carefully, testing the water. She looked away and sighed.

"Of course I do." She breathed heavily and then licked her lips, knawing on the bottom one. "Who wouldn't?"

"Couldn't you convince them?"

"Easier to convince a dog it's a cat." She replied and shook her head. She wished she could convince them, but they would hear no more of it. Especially Kenneth.

The air fell silent between them. Gracelyn leaned back against the back of the bench and pulled a leg to her, knee beneath her chin. She stared off at the ground, watching a few blades of grass blow in the breeze along the sidewalk.

"It's a nightmare out there, Milton." She began as her thoughts ran away from her. "People aren't people anymore. They're… things, creatures that look like people we knew in another lifetime; people we went to school with, people we saw each day on the way to work… people we loved."

Something in her voice changed. Milton had heard it. It was subtle, but it was there; pain.

"They're tearing at each other. Ripping each other to shreds. People they loved. People they never met in their life. They don't care and they don't stop."

Milton stared at her with apprehension of what she was saying. He could hear the numbness resurfacing in her voice. He knew then that something about this whole situation, about Woodbury, hit very close to home for her.

"The world is in flames," she starts again and swallows whatever memory that had surfaced back down, "and yet somehow you all have managed to keep just one piece of paradise safe."

She stood from the bench and removed the coat from her shoulders. She held it out to Milton, not meeting his gaze.

"What are you doing?" He asked as he reached out for it.

"I need to walk; clear my head." She replied, pushing the coat closer to his hand for him to take. He took it in his hands and watched as she walked away. Her steps were slow and meaningless in nature. Milton watched her a moment longer and then went after her, forgetting about his bottles. He walked up alongside her and placed the coat over her bare shoulders once more.

"Thought you could use the company." He commented when she looked at him with surprise. She tugged the coat on, sticking her arms into the sleeves and held the front closed with her hands. She didn't say anything. She just continued on her walk with Milton walking adjacent to her, slightly behind.

He couldn't let her be alone. Not because he had strict orders from the Governor to keep an eye on her, but because of her mental state. Three weeks and he hadn't seen this side of her. He had only seen the goofy, smiling college student from Saint Augustine, Florida. This new girl was a complete stranger to him.

Every now and then Milton would hear her sigh or sniffle from the cold. He could hear her small shuffles of the shoes she seemed to hate as they glided across the rough pavement of the road. She shifted her arms that crossed her chest and tossed her hair off of one shoulder with the simple, graceful motion of her head.

Milton followed her back and forth through the town. Up one side of the street and back down the other. She halted when she came to a chain link fence. She walked up to it and poked her fingers through the diamond holes. Milton was sure they had walked at least three miles to get to this point.

He walked up beside her and looked out at the homes that lined the street before them. Cars were scattered in disarray. Bodies were sprawled over sidewalks, lawns, and the road. The smell of decay was thick in the air. It made him sick.

"If reality is so horrible, then why not stay in this dream for as long as you can?" Milton proposed the question calmly, secretly wanting to flee from the fence. He was a logical man, a man of science, but her resistance to staying in a place that was safe and secure seemed... madness.

"Because it's not real, Milton." She replied and looked over the street again. The sight she was used to. The smell was familiar. She had grown accustomed to the chaos, the nightmare. Anything else, anything like Woodbury, was now the dream.

"That,' she began and pointed one of her fingers through the chain link fence at the scene before them. Milton followed her gaze and examined the sight again, "that is real. It's real and it's ugly and tragic…"

She looked back at him. He could see the deadness of all that was around them in her eyes. She moved her gaze behind them to Woodbury. Her jaw clenched and teeth ground together.

"None of this is real. You're living in a dream." She turned back to the fence and laid her head against the metal once more. "Reality is out there, beyond those walls, this fence. It's trying to break in. It's creeping closer each day. You've managed to keep it out for this long, but you can't forever."

The two fell silent. Gracelyn wiped the tear that rolled down her cheek away and hide her face in the crook of her elbow. She was so torn. She wanted to believe in Woodbury, in the wondrous lie that all these people were living. But she couldn't. She knew better. She had seen the real world, lived in the real world. Perhaps for too long.

There was no illusion great enough to fool her now.

Milton stared at her for a long while. He had no idea how to comfort a crying person, let alone a crying woman. Gracelyn pulled her face from her arm and retracted her hands from the fence. She gave a dejected laugh as she wiped her face.

"How bad does it sound that with everything going on in the world I'm worried about how I look and whether my makeup is running?" She asked and looked over at him as she tried to wipe the mascara and eyeliner from beneath her eyes. Milton said nothing at first. He just stared at her, watching her sniffle and cry and wipe away the makeup.

"You look fine." He reassured her, only to make her give a small sorrowful laugh. She shuts her eyes and another tear escapes down her cheek, taking with it more mascara.

"I don't want to go back out there." She cried and ran the base of her palm over her cheek to dry her skin. She was quickly falling apart right before him and for all his knowledge and intellect, he had no idea what to do.

"You don't have to." He spoke up and moved towards her, letting instinct take over. He opened his arms, hesitantly and awkwardly, to take her crying form. She looked at him with red eyes and then wrapped her arms around his neck. She cried into his shoulder for a long while. Milton awkwardly fought with himself on where to place his hands, residing on her upper back.


	6. Chapter 5

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Five**

Gracelyn awoke to the harsh slap of a pillow on her back.

"Ow! Kenneth, you asshole!" She screamed and lifted herself up on her elbows. Her hair was messed and makeup smudged. "What is wrong with you?!"

"Get up. We're going for a run." He announced and then hit her with the pillow again.

"God dammit!" She screeched and kicked off the sheets, intent on tackling him. He raced out the door and down the stairs before she could even begin to run. The bathroom door opened and Liam appeared. She pushed passed him and pulled a tissue from the box, wiping away her makeup. She quickly brushed her hair and stepped back out into her room.

"Get dressed or I'll send Kenneth back in." He threatened and headed towards the bedroom door.

"You both suck!" She called after him.

"Hey Milton." Gracelyn walked to the door to see Liam passing Milton on the stairs. He had made it nearly to the top and had stopped to allow her brother to pass.

"Morning Milt." Gracelyn greeted as she poked her head out into the hall. Milton looked to her. For some reason the expression on his face made her smile. There was nothing special about it. He wasn't smiling or anything. It was just something more, something about him that made her smile.

"Oh, um morning Lyn." He greeted back and finished climbing the stairs. He walked to her door.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked playfully and moved back into her room. She began making her bed as Milton stepped through the doorway.

"I came to see if you were feeling better." He explained, making Gracelyn cease her motions. She swallowed the sting in her throat and looked over at him. He could be clueless at times in these situations, but he was sweet.

"I'm fine." She assured him. "Thank you."

"Wonderful." He gave a sheepish smile and looked away, fidgeting with his hands. "I'd hate to lose such a good assistant."

For some reason that stung, but only for a moment.

"Uh so, I have to get ready. My brothers are taking me on a run around town."

"When you say run," Milton began as he raised a hand, finger pointed at nothing but air, "you mean?"

"A run. Like exercise. One foot in front of the other." She laughed and finished fixing her bed. "Would you like to come?"

"Oh, no. I, uh, have too many things to do this morning. Have to catalogue the flowers we collected and then find a Hercules beetle." He stumbled over his words. Gracelyn stood up straight and grinned a toothy grin at him.

"Yeah, sounds exciting." She shook her head and headed to her dresser. She pulled out a pair of short and a tank top and then headed into the bathroom. She left the door open slightly while she changed. "Would you like me to help after I'm finished?"

"Oh, no. I think I can manage on my own today." He replied and bounced from one foot to the other.

"Are you sure? I really don't mind."

"No, no... Take a day of rest." He looked to the bathroom door as she stepped out. He swallowed at the sight of her in such little clothing quickly turned his gaze to her face.

"Won't be much of a day of rest. My brother's are slave drivers." She joked and walked to where her shoes sat by the small round table.

"Have they changed their minds?" He asked off hand. She shook her head and sat down in one of the chairs.

"Nope. They want to leave Friday." She picked up a shoe and untied it from the night before.

"What you said last night," Milton began awkwardly, refusing to face her.

"Which part? I remember babbling." She looked to him and tugged her shoe on.

"The part about how those," he searched for the right word, but none came, "_things_ out there are mindlessly tearing at each other."

"What about it?" She asked and picked up the other shoe. She began to pull at the knot, which was extremely well done and tight. She picked it and began to pull her shoe on.

"What if..." he hesitated. His throat seemed to close and he swallowed hard to try and open it, free the words from it. "What if it could be reversed?"

Gracelyn's ministrations slowed as she finished the first knot and then stopped altogether. She stared down at Milton's dress shoes, mind struggling to start back up again. Her eyes crept up his leg to his abdomen, his chest and then finally met his gaze.

"What?" She asked in a near whisper, afraid her voice would betray her. She liked this peculiar, awkward man, but she was beginning to doubt his sanity.

"What if there was a cure?" He said again and moved to the empty seat. He sat down and placed his hands on the table. Gracelyn noticed that there was no notebook attached to the boyish nerd wonder.

"Where's your notebook?" She questioned. It was exceptionally strange for him not to be clutching it to his chest let alone not have it on his person at all.

"In my lab."

His eyes grew wide and mouth firmly shut. Gracelyn slowly lowered her foot to the floor, having finished it. She tilted her head and opened her mouth.

"I'm sorry… _what_?" She asked in a measured voice, somewhat shocked by the slipup reveal. "You have a_lab_? As in a **laboratory**?"

Milton began to stammer and stumble over his words. His heart hammered in his chest and his hands began to sweat. Gracelyn narrowed her eyes, eyebrows knitting together.

"Is that where the door in the alley leads? Is that where you disappear to late at night when everyone's gone to sleep?" She continued to question him. She leaned closer, barely any table left to separate them. "What do you do in there for hours? What kind of ex-"

It hit her like a ton of bricks.

Gracelyn's eyes widen with realization. Her mouth closes and she backs away from Milton. She opens her mouth to say something more, to ask another question, but now there were so many racing in her head. One came prominently to the forefront of her mind.

"Is there one of those _things_ in your lab right now?" Her voice was low, breathy. Her eyes never left Milton's. His darted back and forth behind his round frames, trying to think of something to say.

"_Milton_," Gracelyn began again. Her voice became hard and cautious. "_Is there a biter in your lab_?"

"…yes." He breathed out, searching her eyes. Gracelyn stared at him a moment longer and then suddenly stood up from her seat. She turned her back to him and raised a hand to her mouth. Her breathing was shallow and heavy. Milton stood up from his seat and fidgeted with his hands before him.

"Lyn," he began but she threw up a hand to stop him. She blinked several times and tried to wrap her head around what he has told her. A _zombie_ was in town. It was **here**. How many times had she pressed her ear to that metal door? How many times had she walked around alone at night, through the alleys and back paths with that _thing_ so close?

"You can't tell anyone." Milton spoke up again. He feared what he had done. How could he be so stupid?

"I have to tell the Governor. The people have to know." Gracelyn spun around on her heels. "They have a _right_ to know."

"They **can't** know." He protested and moved closer to her. "You can't tell anyone. Not your brothers, no one."

"How can you ask that of me?" She retorted and shook her head. "Do you have any idea what kind of danger you've put these people in? They're your friends, your neighbors!"

"I do know, but if I can find a cure, then it will have been worth it." He tried to justify his actions. Gracelyn could tell that to him he was in the right, he had done no wrong, but she didn't feel the same way.

"Worth it?" She chided and huffed. "There is no cure! You're going to get someone killed for nothing!"

"There is a cure. I just have to-"

"Stop it! Milton, just stop!" She shouted. She stared at him wide eyed, frustrated and shaking her head. "Don't you hear yourself?"

Milton swallowed and straightened himself.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand." He fixed the collars of his sleeves and looked back at her, trying to act distinguished. She could see right through him.

"Why? Because I'm not a scientist?" She scoffed and shook her head once more.

"Exactly. You don't understand the price that sometimes has to be paid for great discoveries. The risk science involves." Milton's voice was detached.

"You're not a sociopath, Milton. You don't lack a sense of moral responsibility or social conscience. So, quite acting like you do." She licks her lips and sighs through her flared nostrils. "When someone gets hurt, their blood will be on your hands. And there will be blood. You can't control a zombie. You can't _fix_ a mindless killer."

She looked at him a moment longer and then passed him, heading out the door. She jogged down the stairs and headed out the front door of the place. Her brothers stood by a tree towards the center of town. She headed for them and instead began to run in the opposite direction.

She ran and ran and ran. She made it to the fence she had found last night and stopped, gripping it tightly with both hands. She raised her gaze from the ground and looked out at the disaster on the other side. Out there, things made sense. They were straightforward, no secrets or lies.

Gracelyn looked over the fence. Her mind raced. In a heat of fury and fear she hopped the fence and ran down the street spattered with bodies of the dead. She didn't know where she was going. She only knew she had to get away. She had to flee from the ticking time bomb named Woodbury. It was a beautiful disaster.

The sun was slowly setting over the field, casting rays of orange and pink amongst the dying grass.

Gracelyn staggered along, worn from running. She looked to her left and then her right in search of some familiar landmark. She was lost. She hadn't been paying attention to where she was going and had gotten herself lost.

"Perfect!" She screamed into the dusk. "Just fucking brilliant!"

She staggered on, feet beginning to shuffle along the earth. Her calves burned as though they were caught on fire. Her knees were ready to give out. She stopped by a tree, the only one in the whole field, and bent down with her back firmly against the trunk. If she sat she wouldn't be able to stand again.

She looked out over the field. She could see nothing but waves of grass and sparsely spaced trees. She hit her head back against the tree and cursed at herself. She didn't even understand why she had run from Woodbury in the first place. It was one biter; one. She could handle one biter. Perhaps it was the fact that Milton had lied to her; sweet, clueless Milton. Or maybe, it was the fact that Woodbury wasn't all it seemed. It was Stepford; pretty on the outside, but ruinous inside.

Gracelyn looked up at the branches of the tree. She forced herself to stand with much difficulty and then turned to face the trunk. She reached up and grabbed the nearest branch to her. She pulled herself up, struggling to hold her own weight, but she made it. She looked to the next nearest branch and reached out again, pulling herself up. It would be high enough. No biter could reach her there.

This was what she knew, all she knew now. This world had taught her how to survive. For tonight she would be safe and in the morning she would find her way back to Woodbury, to her brothers and then they would leave. No having to wait till the end of the week. They would leave and not worry about what would happen to the illusion.


	7. Chapter 6

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Six**

The sun washed over Gracelyn, peeking through the leaves of the tree. She opened her eyes and stared down at the ground far below. Her hands and feet dangled over the side of the branch she had hoisted herself onto. She lifted herself up onto her elbows and looked out across the field.

It was all the same. She was still lost in a field in the middle of nowhere in the zombie Apocalypse.

She carefully climbed down and found her legs still sore. She stumbled at first as she walked along, but found herself pushing through the pain. The field stretched on for miles until it came to the edge of a wood. She didn't remember going through woods yesterday, but then again she didn't remember much of running away.

She looked in passed the trees. It smelled like a swamp. The trees were skinny, the floor was covered with leaves and sticks and muck. There was no wildlife. Not even the sound of wildlife.

Gracelyn looked back out along the field. She turned on her heels and headed back through the field, hoping to come to a road or a dirt path. Something, anything that would lead her back to her brothers. She walked for hours; on and on and on. Until she came upon the wood again.

"Dammit." She cursed lowly and looked along the tree line. She shook her head at herself, scolded herself and then took a step into the wood. One foot after the other she went, passing the skinny trees, the fallen leaves mashing beneath her once clean shoes. She stopped for a moment and looked behind her. She no longer saw the edge of the wood.

She turned back ahead and continued on. The trees all looked the same. Each step she took felt as though it were leading her in circles. She stopped again and leaned against a tree. She looked out into the never-ending wood and shook her head.

It was so quiet. Too quiet.

Gracelyn pushed herself from the tree and walked on. Several steps ahead she slipped her left foot into a deep puddle, sinking to her knee.

"God dammit...!" She growled and pulled herself up and out. Her jeans were soaking wet and reeked of decaying leaves and who knew what else. Gracelyn turned her face to the tree tops and closed her eyes for a moment. She took several deep breaths and exhaled as deeply as she could, calming herself. "Getting upset isn't going to help you any, Gracelyn. Calm down and focus."

She opened her eyes again and stared at the bottomless pit of a wood. It stretched for as far as the eye could see, never seeming to change. She clicked her tongue and heaved a sigh before moving on.

She walked for another hour and then another and then another. She was filthy, sweaty and becoming frantic. No matter which way she turned she never came to an end in the wood.

"Perhaps there is no end? Maybe this frickin' forest goes on forever." She scowled at herself as she trekked on. "That can't be you idiot…! There had to be an end. That's how you got in here in the first place."

Her shoes were sopping wet. Her jeans were beginning to chafe. Her hair stuck to the back of her neck in clumps that scratched at her skin.

"How the fuck do I get out of here?!" She screamed out at the top of her lungs. She was answered by silence. She screamed again and this time received an answer. Somewhere around her a stick snapped. She froze and silenced. She turned around slowly in search of where it had come from.

Another stick snapped.

She spun around only to find nothing in the vicinity. She swallowed the lump that was beginning to form in her throat. Everything was quiet again. Maybe it was nothing.

Another stick snapped and something heavy fell into a puddle.

Gracelyn didn't know what to do. She didn't see anything. She couldn't make out where the noise was coming from. Her heart began to quicken. She tried to keep her breathing steady, but it became choppy. She could only hear the sound of her breaths as they left her nose. Her eyes darted back and forth over the trees.

Another stick snapped and then another.

Whatever was out there with her was getting closer. Gracelyn decided to move, slowly, step by step. Breaking twigs and sticks seemed to follow her no matter what direction she went. Her footfalls became clumsy. She kept looking over her shoulder as she hurried along.

More heavy splatters arose. More snapping sticks.

Gracelyn's ear picked up on something. It was soft, distant. It resembled moaning or perhaps groaning. Her body quaked when the name crossed her mind: biters.

She panicked. She spun around in a circle, hoping to see what way they were coming at her, but she saw nothing. She could hear them. Their mangled grunts. Their heavy, lumbering steps. She could even smell their decaying flesh.

She spun again and came face to face with a biter. The skin on his face was drooping, nearly falling off. Gracelyn pushed him away, but fell into another biter; a woman with a half eaten arm. Gracelyn screamed and ran as fast as she could away from them. Every time she looked over her shoulder there were more of them, grouping together; a herd. She had found her way into a herd of biters and didn't know the way out.

It didn't seem to matter how fast she ran. They were right behind her. Ten, then fifteen, twenty. Gracelyn's eyes stung with tears. Her legs ached and burned. Her heart hammered against her chest, lungs stinging.

Suddenly she was falling. No, she was sinking.

She had run straight into a bog hidden by leaves floating on the surface. She sunk beneath the surface.

The leaves returned to their original places as though magnets held them together. Small bubbles came to the surface. One here. One there. Then stopped. The bog was still like some kind of nightmarish mirror. All was quiet.

Gracelyn broke the surface and gasped, coughing out the murky water. She struggled to stay afloat. Something was wrapped around her ankle, rooting her to her place. She looked over her shoulder and spotted the biters wandering closer, groans growing louder. Gracelyn struggled and fought, but the root would not release her.

"Help!" She screamed out in panic. "Please! Somebody help me!"

Something made a splash in the water around her. She hadn't seen what it was. She couldn't see it now. She could see small bubbles appearing in the water, slowly creeping closer to her.

"No…! Please, no…" She cried and watched in horror as they got closer. The bubbles disappeared suddenly. Gracelyn tried to find them, but they were gone. Something grabbed her leg. She screamed at the top of her lungs and kicked with all her might, but it kept its hold. It tugged on her, pulling her head beneath the surface. She fought to the surface and spluttered, screaming again.

Her foot came lose. She was no longer tied to the bog. She kicked, feeling her heel collide with something. She swam as quickly as she could to the edge of the bog and tried to pull herself up. The ground was too wet and she was too weak. She heard something move in the water and screamed again.

"_Gracelyn!_" A voice called out from the woods. She tried to call out, tried to scream, but she was crying to hard.

"Gracelyn!" Another voice called from another part of the wood. Again she tried to scream, tried to let them know she was there. Something moved in the water again. It touched her foot so she kicked. Her foot collided with the thing beneath the water. She tried to pull herself up again.

"**Gracelyn**!" A third voice called from the distance, sounding further away. Gracelyn, alarmed that whoever was looking for her was heading the other way, struggled and fought and tried to wrestle her way out of the bog. She dug her feet into the side of the bog and tried to push off, but it worked against her. She slipped and fell back into the water, head beneath the surface. She emerged once more with a loud gasp and flung her arms onto the bank.

"Gracelyn!" Her eyes shot to the voice. Milton stood several yards away with several other men. He stared at her like a deer caught in the head lights. He was the only one that saw her.

Gracelyn extended a hand towards him, sobbing and sputtering. Milton saw the leaves in the water move. Realizing she was not alone in the bog he ran full speed towards her. He slid across the wet ground to the edge of the bog. He wrapped his arms around her chest, beneath her arms and pulled with all his strength.

Her knees touched the sinking earth, but not for long. A biter rose from the water and grabbed hold of her leg. She kicked and flailed, but this time it would not release her.

"Help!" Milton screamed out and tried to pull Gracelyn away. "Somebody help!"

"Please, don't let it get me!" Gracelyn cried as she swung her legs, flailed and even kicked at the biter. His hold was and an iron grasp. Gracelyn held onto Milton, clenching his shirt in her hands. He tugged her to him, teeth grinding against each other.

A shot rang out.

Then biter's hold lessened and it slowly disappeared beneath the water. Gracelyn retracted her leg, pulling it close to her and wrapped her arms tightly around Milton. His hold didn't loosen. His eyes stared widely at the bog while Gracelyn's sobs rang through his ears.

"Gracie!" Liam ran out from the trees on the other side of the bog. Kenneth nearly ran in to Liam as he came to stop behind him. They both looked at their little sister; dirty, shaking and howling with tears in the arms of Milton Mamet.

"Gracie…" Liam breathed and ran around the bog to her side. She reached out a hand and grabbed hold of his shirt covering his shoulder. He placed a hand to her cheek while the other covered hers on his shoulder. "You're okay. Everything's okay now."

"Martinez!" The Governor's voice boomed from the woods. "Did you find 'er?!"

"Yeah, she's over here! She's alright!" He called back and watched the Governor approach with heavy steps. The Governor looked to Gracelyn, wrapped up in Milton's arms.

"What happened?" He asked, unable to pull his eyes away.

"She fell into the bog, got caught by a biter." Martinez shook his head and then gave a short laugh. "Milton pulled her out."

The Governor looked to Martinez as he slowly walked away and then returned his eyes to Milton. Gracelyn held tightly to him and Liam with Milton's arms around her. He slowly walked towards them. Kenneth eyed him carefully as he neared and they met glances for a moment. The Governor bent down beside Milton, noticing the horrified expression on his face.

"You alright?" The Governor asked gently. Milton broke his gaze on the water and looked up at his friend for a moment. He nodded his head slowly and looked back at the bog once more, swallowing hard. The Governor looked to Gracelyn. She was a mess and broken. His eyes drifted to Liam.

"We need to get out of here. There's a reason we call it the Red Zone." He explained carefully. Liam nodded his head and then moved closer.

"Milton, if you let her go I can take her." Liam spoke softly, reaching between Milton and his sister to get to her side. Milton realized what was happening and let go of her as though she had burned him. He slid to the right and allowed Gracelyn to fall into Liam's arms. He picked her up bridal style, her face hidden in the crook of his neck. Liam looked to the Governor and he nodded his head, turning to walk away.

Gracelyn cried and cried all the back to Woodbury. She cried all the way down the street, all the way up the stairs and even when Kenneth turned on the shower and Liam placed her inside fully clothed.

They left the bathroom door open a creak and sat down at the table in the corner of the room. They were silent. They were waiting. Both men fell asleep in their seats waiting for Gracelyn to emerge from the bathroom, but she didn't. She only sunk into the tub, curled herself into a ball and cried as the once warm water turned icy and rained down upon her like needles.


	8. Chapter 7

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Seven**

"Gracelyn?" A knock came from the bedroom door. Gracelyn lay in her bed, back to the door. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, hands beneath her pillow. She didn't answer. She didn't even move. She only stared blankly at the wall ahead of her.

Another soft knock.

"Gracelyn, are you in there?" Milton's voice called gently from behind the door. He lowered his eyes to the bottom of the door, hoping to see shadows move to tell him she was there. All he saw was the light that poured in from the window next to her bed. He raised his hand again and knocks once more, finality in each beat.

"Milton?" A voice called from the stairs. Milton turned around and looked back at Liam and Kenneth.

"Oh," he began awkwardly, "hello."

"You can knock all day. She's not gonna answer." Liam explained and finished climbing the stairs. Kenneth walked behind him to the door. Milton moved away and allowed him access. Liam knocked thrice on the door and then fell silent. "Gracie? It's Liam."

No reply.

"If you don't come to the door, I'll open it." He announced and looked back at Kenneth when again there was no response from inside the room. Liam pulled out a small leather pouch from his pocket and opened it, revealing lock pick tools. He began to jiggle the lock, working the tumblers inside the mechanism.

"Perhaps it would be better to just give her space." Milton spoke up, uncomfortable with breaking in to Gracelyn's room. Kenneth looked over at Milton and then wiped a thumb over his nose as he studied him.

"Space? She had all day yesterday to wallow. Trust me. The last thing she wants is more space." He spoke up and then crossed his arms over his chest. He leaned against the wall as Liam unlocked the door with the swift flick of his wrist.

"If she doesn't want to be left alone, then why not answer the door?" Milton asked, making Kenneth laugh. He shook his head of short blonde locks at how clueless this man was about the opposite sex. He briefly wondered if he had ever been in an intimate relationship with a woman; had ever _been_ with a woman at all.

"_Go away_ in Gracelyn lingo means **don't you dare think about leaving**. I love my sister, but she's as stubborn as a mule and proud to a fault." He enlightened Milton as Liam grabbed the door knob and opened the door. He stepped inside and Kenneth followed languidly, stopping before walking passed the frame. He looked to Milton and patted him on the shoulder, "You have a lot to learn about our female counterparts, science boy."

Kenneth walked into the room and stood beside Liam. They both stared down at Gracelyn's still form. Milton watched from the open door as Liam moved to the bed and sat down on the edge, looking down at his sister. From what he could see, Gracelyn had gotten up and taken a shower. That had been it though. She had gone straight back to the bed when she was finished.

Liam placed a hand on her arm and gave a tender squeeze. Her hand crept up from beneath her pillow and covered his, wrapping around. Kenneth looked back at Milton with his arms crossed over his chest and a somber look that said, _"See?"_

Gracelyn's eyes burned with tears again. She clutched them shut in an attempt to keep them from spilling. Her throat stung. It was raw and sore from crying so much last night. She gave a small sniffle and squeezed Liam's hand.

After a quiet moment, Gracelyn moved and sat up. She kept a tight hold on Liam's hand, placing it in her lap covered by the comforter. She turned her face to the ceiling, eyes shut as tight as she could manage and licked her lips. She looked to Liam and then to Kenneth, seeming to pass right over Milton in the doorway.

She hadn't though. She had seen him, wearing a plaid short sleeved shirt open to reveal a bright green tee. She couldn't make eye contact with him. She was still dissatisfied with what he had revealed to her; a lab, a zombie in the town, secrets. She had seen the look of concern on Milton's face and also the concern on the Governor's from where he hovered in the hall, staring at the scene.

"I'm sorry." Gracelyn murmured and moved her eyes to her and Liam's connected hands. "I shouldn't have run away. It was stupid, but I just... I was suffocating with everything and I-"

"It's okay." Liam comforted her as his thumb ran over the back of her hand, trying to soothe her like a parent with their frightened child. That's how he had always been with her; fatherly. He looked out for the; Kenneth and Gracelyn. It was his _duty_ as the oldest brother.

"I thought I was going to die..." She gave a small cry, her voice broken and raw.

"Come on," Kenneth gave a soft, forced laugh and sat on the edge of the nightstand. He made a fist and nudged her chin. "You're a Luan; a fighter. You would have been fine. We taught you how to fight, how to survive."

She shook her head. She opened her bloodshot eyes and then looked between them.

"I'm not like you two." She admitted and let go of Liam's hand. She ran her hands over her face and then let them fall together into her lap.

"You're right. You're not like them." The Governor suddenly spoke up and gently pushed passed Milton into the room. The siblings looked back at him and glared, each in their own way. Liam stood up from the bed slowly. The Governor looked to the window, staring out at the sunny day. He shook his head, "Gracelyn may be your sister, but she ain't like the two of you. She's no soldier. She can't rely on brute force or skill with a knife. Look at her. She's shakin' like a leaf even now."

Kenneth made to move towards the Governor, probably to strike him, but Liam caught him by the arm. Kenneth glared at the Governor, hands in tight fists and jaw clenched. Liam's eyes narrowed; face straight.

"What are you trying to say?" He asked slowly, knowing where this was going. The Governor had invited them to stay. He wasn't going to let them go without a fight. The Governor ran a hand over his mouth and rubbed his chin.

"She don't belong out there. She won't survive. You two know that." He clarified. "She ain't no fighter. She's a frightened child."

Milton looked passed the Governor, passed Liam and Kenneth, to Gracelyn. Her head was hung slightly, eyes staring off at the comforter.

"You two have been trainin' for this your entire lives; learnin' to fight, to shoot, to survive." The Governor gave a dismal laugh. "She's a twenty-four year old college student, who up until a year ago was spendin' her time attendin' football games, cheerin' from the crowd, and wavin' flags at spirit day."

"You think this lie is better than what's out there in the real world." Liam concluded and let his hold on Kenneth fall. "You think she should stay."

"I think you **all** should stay." The Governor corrected, placing his hands on his waist. His thumbs went through his belt loops. He shook his head. "But I know I can't convince you two. You've made up your minds. You want to leave; so be it. Miss Lyn, however…"

The Governor's eyes moved to Gracelyn where she sat in her bed. Milton's gaze followed through his glasses. Gracelyn closed her eyes and tried to keep herself from crying again. Milton watched her bottom lip quiver as a tear escaped down her cheek.

"She's loyal to you two. Hell, you're her older brothers. She would follow you to the end of the world if you asked her. Without much of a fight, I'd reckon." The Governor's expression softened as he watched tears roll down Gracelyn's cheek. He licked his already moist lips and gnawed on the side of the bottom one a quick moment. "Even if she don't want to."

He looked back to Kenneth and Liam. The brother's exchanged a look. The Governor turned his gaze to Liam, having figured out from the get go that he was the more reasonable of the two.

"She knows she don't belong out there. Movin' from place to place… livin' like some kind of animal. Now, like it or not, she don't want to leave Woodbury. She's jumped back on into the fryin' pan and for you two to just be tryin' to force her back into that fire, to tell her she don't have any choice in the matter," the Governor's voice was strained. Milton could hear the exasperation that lingered once he had gone quiet again. The Governor looked back at Kenneth and Liam and shook his head, "it's cruel and it's wrong. Especially, since she does have a choice."

"We need to stick together!" Kenneth snapped, earning the hard stare of the Governor. "She's _our_ sister!"

"You're gonna get **your** sister killed!" The Governor suddenly snapped back, lips taunt over his teeth like an animal. Anger was thick in his voice with a hint of animosity. He stared at Kenneth for a brief moment before he swung a swift pointer finger at Gracelyn. "You take your sister outside the walls and she'll die! Maybe not in a week, maybe not a month, but she **will **die from one of those biters."

The room fell into a dead silence. Voices and laughing could be heard from outside, a bird chirped somewhere in the distance. The Governor's eyes moved from one brother to the other, waiting for another challenge.

Liam… Liam knew he was right.

He looked back at his sister. He had seen that look before. He had seen it many times when he was starting in the Navy. It was the look of an empty shell, of numbness. He had seen plenty of men and women wearing it. Right after they were ordered to complete another tour of duty.

"You can't protect her forever. Not out there. Not when you have yourselves to protect too." The Governor addressed the elephant in the room. Liam had been thinking about it since Gracelyn had been found. She had disappeared and he and Kenneth couldn't find her anywhere. They searched and searched and in the end it was Milton who found her and saved her. He and Kenneth hadn't even been looking in the right place.

Kenneth's gaze moved to Milton, who stared at his sister with a remorseful expression. He didn't stop to think about why he was remorseful. He didn't care if it was because Gracelyn had nearly died or because all the arguing was making her cry again or even because what the Governor was saying was true. He only saw red when he looked at Milton.

"You're awfully quiet." Kenneth barked at the graceless, spectacled man. Milton looked to him and swallowed nervously. Kenneth didn't trust Milton. Not because he was social awkward or anything, but because for the last couple of weeks he had seen the mousy man keeping a close eye on Gracelyn. He knew the difference between stalking and spying.

"I have nothing to say." Milton spoke up, trying to turn the attention away from him. The stares were making him increasingly uncomfortable. He had only come to see if Gracelyn was alright and was rewarded with arguments and suspicion.

"You've been spending an awful lot of time with my sister."

"She's been assisting me."

"**Right**…" Kenneth began and nodded his head slowly with a mocking expression crossing his face, "She was _assisting_ you."

"She was very helpful." Milton's voice trembled. He rubbed his throat quickly and raised his chin, trying to compose himself.

"Oh, I'm sure she was. She can be real trusting of people. Especially now when there are so few left." Kenneth took a step closer to him. His eyes were narrowed. "What kind of bullshit have you been filling Lyn's head with?"

"What?" Milton's voice quaked. He was confused now. Surely, Kenneth and Liam didn't think he had filled Gracelyn's head full of lies and deceit to try and make her stay.

"Now hold on just a minute." The Governor stepped in, raising a hand to waist height to motion for Kenneth to stop his advance on Milton. Milton stared at the ex-Marine with round, incredulous eyes that looked even bigger because of his glasses. "Milton didn't have nuttin' to do with** any** of this. So, why don't you just let him alone?"

"Of course you want me to leave him alone." Kenneth's eyes never moved from Milton. "He's a real good rat. Ain't ya, Milty? No one would ever suspect quiet, invisible you. Quiet"

Kenneth suddenly lurched passed the Governor and took Milton by his shirt. He pushed him harshly up against the wall. Milton quavered and looked away from Kenneth's intent stare that was quickly becoming a glower. "That's why the Governor's defending you now. Can't have his best, little spy getting ratted out, now can he? Who would keep tabs on everyone he doesn't trust then?"

Kenneth gritted his teeth. He was good at intimidation and Milton… he had begun to shrink down the wall, breaking under the pressure.

"What kind of crap have you been telling you're good ole faithful Governor?" Kenneth pulled Milton back up straight and slammed his back against the wall again.

"Hey! Now, I said let him be." The Governor snapped, but didn't move.

"Come on, dog! Speak!"

"I'm not a dog." Milton's voice trembled. Kenneth slammed his against the wall once more. He wasn't trying to hurt him. He simply wanted answers. He had been under the Governor's microscope for nearly a month now. He had played his little game, done what he was told, kept his nose clean, and it was fine until he caught wind that Gracelyn had a tail. No one messed with his family: least of all his little sister.

"You're right Milton. You're a rat." Kenneth's fists pushed into the rotator cuffs of Milton's shoulders. The mousy man gasped in pain and surprise. "A dirty, good for nothing rat."

The Governor made to move, to pull Kenneth off of Milton, but Liam grabbed him by the shoulder. The Governor spun around, face twisted in anger, but Liam only nodded to the bed where Gracelyn was watching the scene. She hadn't been paying much attention until she heard Milton's vocalization of pain. It had pushed everything else out of her mind. It cemented itself at the forefront.

Milton gasped again and took hold of one of Kenneth's muscular forearms.

"What was that rat? I can't hear you. Speak up!" Kenneth snapped, knuckles turning white with clenching Milton's shirt. He dug his fists in again, making Milton wince and grimace. "Come on! Speak!"

Gracelyn threw back the comforter and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She stood up and walked passed Liam and then passed the Governor. Her eyes burned into Kenneth's back. Milton watched her, face contorting in pain, as she moved quickly. She laced her hands together and slammed her forearms down across the antecubital region of Kenneth's inner elbows. It broke his hold on Milton instantly. She then pushed on his chest with her right hand and kicked his legs out from under him, sending him to the floor flat on his back.

She hadn't hurt him. She hadn't wanted to. She knew what she was doing. So did Kenneth. He had taught her the move after all. Gracelyn just wanted him to stop. She wanted all of them to stop. She couldn't take it anymore.

Milton slouched slightly against the wall, placing a hand over one of his cuffs. It ached, but it was slowly waning. He looked on in disbelief of what had just happened. He questioned how she had done it; so quickly and so forcefully. His eyes moved to the Governor and could tell what was crossing his mind.

Gracelyn was not as helpless as he, the Governor, and everyone else in town had thought.

Milton chanced another look at the Governor. He could see the irritation in his brow. Milton hadn't told him Gracelyn was so agile, that she could do something like _that_. Milton hadn't known himself. She seemed so… clumsy. She was always running into things, tables, benches, people, even corners of walls. She dropped everything she touched. She tripped up the staircase and stumbled over her own feet while walking.

Milton looked back at Gracelyn, who hadn't moved a muscle. She was unyielding in her posture; firm, confident even. Milton knitted his eyebrows together in reservation.

Had all that gracelessness just been some kind of show? Was there something he had missed? Something she and her brothers had kept so finely hidden the last month that Milton hadn't discovered? Or was it simply a coincidence? A onetime happening as a result of stress and training from her military reared brothers?

Gracelyn stared down at Kenneth. She knelt on one knee with her hand still on his chest, fingers sprawled out. Kenneth looked up at her, breathing heavily through gritted teeth. She didn't have to say it. Her eyes conveyed her message just fine to him. His tense body relaxed beneath her hand. He let his head fall back against the wooden floor and let out a hefty sigh while he stared at the bare ceiling.

"I'm fine." Kenneth breathed out and looked up at her. She doubted his words. Kenneth scoffed and took a deep breath in through his nose. "I'm not gonna do anything else, Lyn."

Gracelyn tentatively retracted her hand from his chest. She stood up, keeping a steady eye on him as he sat up. She shook her head with disappointment and walked back to her bed. She grabbed her shoes, tugged them on and headed towards the door of the room, bumping into Liam.

"Where are you going?" Liam asked carefully, seeing she wasn't quite together as he and Kenneth had hoped.

"To cool off before I kick all y'alls stupid asses." She bit out faintly. She got to the door and stopped, looking to Milton against the wall. She stared at him for a long moment, hoping to see an indication that Kenneth was wrong, that he had only been fishing, but she couldn't tell. She disappeared in a flash of white-blonde.

"Gracelyn!" The Governor called and walked out after her. Milton slid down the wall a bit, shaking. He looked to Liam and then to Kenneth as he stood up. He didn't know whether or not Kenneth was going to pick up where his sister had made him leave off. Kenneth only turned his back to him and scoffed. Milton pried himself off the wall and began to fix his collar with trembling hands.

"Are you alright?" Liam asked, noticing how Milton quaked. Milton nodded, unable to make eye contact. Once he had straightened himself out enough he met Liam's gaze. He could see honest remorse on his face.

"Gracelyn is your sister. You should do what's best for her." He spoke softly, almost afraid of his own voice, that it may betray him. He too was feeling remorse, "Whether the best for her is here in Woodbury or out there on the other side of the wall with you two."

He met his walked from the room and headed down the stairs, trying to pull himself together. He stepped out onto the sidewalk and spotted the Governor searching for where Gracelyn had disappeared to.

Milton knew he should go talk with the Governor, but he had had enough for one day. He retreated down the familiar alley that led to the metal door of his laboratory. He opened it, took one last glance down the alley and then disappeared inside.


	9. Chapter 8

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Eight**

Gracelyn looked out the window at the world below, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked within the city walls. She hadn't laid eyes on her brothers yet today. She figured they were avoiding her or brooding somewhere on the wall. Perhaps both. When she had gotten back to her room yesterday, after everything that had taken place, they were gone and she was left alone to think about the things that were said.

She had done some brooding herself in the wee hours of the night. She had sat a chair by her window and stared out into the darkened city like a gargoyle. The guards had come and gone, changed several times, but nothing dodgy or out of the ordinary happened. She had stayed up all night, waiting for those who bumped in the darkness to come out.

Gracelyn walked to the closed door of her bedroom and pulled it open. She jumped, not expecting anyone to be there; let alone the Governor. She clenched her hands and held them tightly to her sides.

"Afternoon." He greeted with a charming smile, hands behind his back. Did he think she had forgotten yesterday? The Governor licked his lips and gave a small laugh as though embarrassed about having been caught. "I came here wonderin' if I could have a word with you."

"Didn't you say enough yesterday?" She retorted and stepped out of her room, not caring to wait for him to move.

"Well, that's what I wanted to talk about." He replied as she shut her door.

"I don't want to talk." She came back with and headed to the stairs, hurrying down them. The Governor followed behind her.

"Miss Lyn, please," he called as she went through the front doors of the building. He followed her outside onto the sidewalk and found she was already nearing the other side of the street. She was trying to outrun him. He looked around, seeing the townspeople walking about. He didn't dare yell after her. Instead he followed her and following him was Milton.

Milton had been walking along the sidewalk opposite of Gracelyn's building with his hands deep in his pockets. He was hoping that the fresh air and sun would clear his mind when suddenly a flash of white-blonde had caught his eye. Gracelyn had all but run out from the door of her building and jogged across the street. She had begun walking with haste, hands clenched at her sides; on a mission. Milton had then watched the Governor watch her for a moment before he stalked after her.

The Governor stepped up onto the side walk and followed behind Gracelyn. Milton walked along, careful not to get too close. He was curious as to what was going on.

Where was Gracelyn heading to in such a hurry? Why was the Governor trailing after her?

Milton looked around at the people who walked passed him. They weren't noticing what was happening. They were, as Gracelyn had put it before, blissfully unaware. His eyes moved back to the Governor, whose eyes were firmly glued to Gracelyn. She abruptly turned down an alley, but the Governor didn't pursue. Instead, he continued along the sidewalk and watched her as she passed by each alley.

Milton jogged down the alley after Gracelyn. She came to the end of the alley and turned sharply, walking between the back of the building and the wall. She was quick for someone with a longer torso than her legs. He observed that the Governor and her seemed to be playing a game of cat and mouse as they both hiked along.

The Governor was in sync with her every step, but had managed to be subtle about his chase. She didn't notice either of the men following her. Her mind was deadest on something. Her mission was clear.

The Governor looked ahead of himself at the sidewalk and continued to follow it. He looked down each alley he came to and spotted the tail end of Gracelyn's hair as it disappeared behind the next building.

Milton suddenly became worried about where Gracelyn was heading. She halted suddenly at the opening of the next alley. The Governor did too.

They were all locked in their spots like pieces on a chess board. Yet Gracelyn and the Governor both seemed ready to make their next move, each having thought a step ahead. It was like an old spaghetti western with two cowboys readying for the town clock to toll noon and signal them to draw their weapons and shoot.

Neither of their gazes faltered.

The Governor knew what she was after. In his peripheral vision he could see the metal door in the middle of the alley wall. The door that led into Milton's laboratory where the biter resided. He had figured out her plan as soon as she had headed down the first alley. He had known someone would try _this_ at some point the moment Milton admitted his slip up. He had thought, though, that it would be Kenneth at the other end of the alley.

Gracelyn's stare was dark; the stare of someone focused and determined. It spoke to the Governor. It said, _"Don't even try,"_ but the Governor was not one to walk away from a challenge. He was not about to have this little girl thwart the research Milton was doing, the progress he had made, all because she was afraid that the biter _might_ get loose.

Gracelyn prepared to make her move. She bent her knees slowly and moved her weight to the balls of her feet ever so slightly. The Governor only watched.

Until she bolted.

He took off down the alley as quick as he could. Milton followed into the alley at the opposite end. Gracelyn made it to the door, grabbed hold of the knob and pulled. It was abruptly slammed shut by a pair of heavy hands that were soon grabbing hold of her and pushing her roughly into the brick wall.

"Let me go…!" She growled through gritted teeth. She tried to rip herself away from him, but he had a good hold. Milton hurried down the alley, eyes widening. "I have to kill it!"

Something slicked in her left hand, catching the light and Milton's eyes.

"Is that a knife?" He asked as he took notice to the object in her right hand. It was in fact a knife. A seven inch M16-10KZ Tanto tactical knife: Liam's favorite.

The Governor looked at her hand and then went to grab it. Gracelyn moved her hand away, but he caught her wrist tightly. The Governor gritted his teeth, but said nothing as he struggled to pull it out of her hand. He resided, instead, on wringing her wrist until she would surrender it.

"Let me go...! You're hurting me…!" She whined through her teeth as she grimaced. In another moment she released the knife. It clattered to the broken stones on the ground that had once formed a pathway through the alley. The Governor forced her to back up against the wall. It's rough texture scrapped along her exposed shoulder in her tank top.

The Governor managed to get a hold of both her wrists in one of his bear paws. He moved his free arm, his forearm, to lie across her collar bones directly beneath the base of her throat to make certain she couldn't go anywhere.

"Get off of me…!" She snarled and tried to move. She groaned as her scratched flesh rubbed against the coarse wall behind her once more.

"Philip," Milton started as he neared, not liking what was happening before him. He hadn't seen this side of the Governor, of Philip, before. He didn't know where this new Philip had come from all of a sudden. Perhaps he had been there all along, hidden away until someone threatened what he and Milton had been working towards. Milton didn't know what this new Philip might do… what he was capable of doing.

Philip didn't seem to hear Milton call to him. He only stared down at Gracelyn. He said nothing. Only held her there prisoner, pinned between him and the brick wall that was tearing at her flesh with every struggling move.

Gracelyn growled and fought, but he was stronger than she could ever hope to be. He was very much like her brothers in stature, tall with broad shoulders, but his strength was raw, organic. Her brothers' strength was manufactured from years of hard training. They used theirs as weapons. Philip was using his as a cage to restrain Gracelyn from her anger, trying to force her to reel it in.

"Let me go…!" She growled out and tried to use all her weight to push him away, but he stood resolute. She tried to kick him, but he pushed her legs aside and threw his own between them.

Milton took a few more steps closer. This was too much for him. The whole thing suddenly felt too personal for some reason as though it wasn't meant to be seen by anyone; not even him. Milton looked back down the alley. People walked on with their daily lives unbeknownst to them what was happening there, now. He looked back at Philip and Gracelyn. His eyes drifted to their lower halves. Philip had his pelvis pressed firmly to hers; hip bone against hip bone to keep her from hurting him.

Milton's hands began to tingle and sweat with nerves. He could hear Gracelyn's strangled voice far away, telling Philip that he was hurting her; to stop. He wanted to do something, but he didn't know what. He wasn't strong or daunting: not even a little. He wasn't like the other 'manly men' that seemed to encompass Gracelyn's daily life.

"He has one of those monsters in there…!" Gracelyn gritted out as she tried to pull her hands free of his hold. His grasp tightened, making her wrist bones grind and skin flare. "Why are you stopping me…?! He's putting everyone in Woodbury in danger…!"

"Please," Philip begged, "let me explain."

"You know?!" Gracelyn shouted incredulously. He said nothing in response and only stared down into her eyes that burned with fury. She kicked again and her heel collided heartily with the back of his ankle; the Achilles' tendon. He winced and grimaced as a sharp pain ran up his leg, but didn't release her.

He moved his feet and set them atop hers, allowing his weight to cement them to the ground. He stared at the brick wall above her head and gritted his teeth to hold himself in his place; to reel in his own anger. He knew that he wasn't going to get anywhere if they were both at each other's throats.

The girl proved to be stronger than he had originally thought. Didn't know it to look at her, but she had real muscle in the legs that tried to retract from beneath his feet. However, there was no upper body strength. All of it was in the legs he held at bay.

Philip closed his eyes and allowed her to continue. He listened to her carefully as she cursed and growled, snarled like a beast. She accused him of putting people in danger; his people. She told him he was going to get someone killed. Said he was a hypocrite.

Gracelyn tried to kick again, but **failed**. She tried to push him away, but **failed**. She squirmed and fought and thrashed and used all of her might, but **failed**.

She could feel herself losing steam and was beginning to figure out that it was futile to think she was getting out of this man's grasp. She wasn't going anywhere so long as he had a hold on her.

Another moment passed by and finally she began to calm down, breathing heavily. A moment more and Philip retracted his forearm from her collarbones. When he was sure she wasn't going to do anything more, he backed up a few steps and released her. His eyes, however, stayed glued to her.

"Let us explain." He offered her, his eyes never drifting to the researcher he was dragging into the mess. Milton looked from Gracelyn to Philip with almost terror in his eyes.

Was Philip sure this was really a good idea? Could they trust her not to inform the people in town? To not divulge to her brothers who were already ill at ease in Woodbury?

"Would you just let us explain?" Philip searched her eyes for an answer. "Please."

She stared at him hard, breathing heavily, but then… slowly she nodded.


	10. Chapter 9

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Nine**

Gracelyn's eyes moved slowly in their sockets; left to right, up and down. They took in everything that the warehouse, Milton's makeshift laboratory, had to offer. The walls were built of white cement bricks the resembled the inside of a middle school's gym. The floor was hard and cold, a dull, depressing grey. Everywhere were a clash of harsh neon white lights and the soft white that gave off an odd yellow glow. A horrid smell of chlorine and bleach wafted through the air. Tables were set up here and there with books and papers sprawled across them in disarray.

Gracelyn could tell that Milton spent most of his time locked away in here. In one corner was an arm chair and a bookcase filled with books of all different subjects. A record player sat on a small round table some feet from the nook.

She took a step further into the laboratory and stopped before a table in the center of the place. She stared down at the model of the town of Woodbury. It was crafted from cardboard mostly and extremely accurate.

"_Your_ handy work, I presume." Gracelyn's eyes rose to Philip, who walked along on the other side of the table. His hands rested on his hips, a pointer finger gently tapping against his belt where her knife was secured for the moment. He examined the model and then nodded, not bothering to meet her gaze.

She turned her head to the side and looked behind her at the expansion of the room. She spotted a metal table beneath a round, medical light. She moved to it and studied its surface. Her fingers gently glided along the edge of the table as she circled it.

Milton pushed his glasses back into place on his nose and watched her. Her moves were precise yet she made them look graceful. It reminded him of a Hollywood born serial killer who taunted their next victim, drumming up drama and anticipation for an audience.

"Where is it?" She questioned and stopped at the foot of the table. Her hands slid from the edge and to her sides, slapping against her jeans. Philip's gaze moved to Milton, who stood beside a makeshift desk, playing with the binding of a leather-bound journal. He met his stare, both conversing without spoken words.

"It out lived its usefulness." Philip replied, his eyes never blinking as he held Milton's gaze. Gracelyn noticed.

"What do you mean?" She asked, eyes lingering on Milton.

"It died."

"It was already dead." She retorted and turned to look him head on. She stood straight, unflinching beneath his gaze. "You asked me to let you explain. So, start explaining before-"

"Before what?" Philip questioned snarkily, beginning a staring contest with the woman. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Before you go runnin' to your brothers?"

She said nothing. That was exactly what she had been thinking. Now that he had said it aloud, it sounded childish. It made her feel weak, feeble… helpless. Even so, she found herself wishing Liam and Kenneth were there now. They would put him in his place so fast it would make his head spin.

"They ain't always gonna be around to rescue you when you've gotten yourself into trouble." Philip's words, though they sounded as though enlightening, were a threat. Milton noticed. He heard the undertone. He looked back and forth between them, waiting for someone to bend. A minute passed and no one made a sound. Another minute passed and still neither was willing to yield.

"I wanted to examine its brain." Milton spoke up, earning the stares of both aggressors. He swallowed his nervousness and tried to steady his breathing.

"Why the Hell would you want to do that?" She asked slowly, face turning from animosity of Philip to curiousness, an emotion that Milton usually brought out of her when in his presence.

"I wanted see if I could determine how exactly the disease operated." Milton took a quick step closer to her and then stopped suddenly with exhilaration. Gracelyn could hear the enthusiasm in his voice. **Finally**, here was someone who was taking a _real_ interest in the work he was doing; someone who actually understood more than how to work a gun or throw a knife. "I wanted to know how it transmitted the disease to us, whether it was viral, bacterial or something else entirely; how it affected us on a biological and cellular level. It's quite fascinating really."

"So, then why is it dead now?" It didn't make sense to her. Why would they rid of something if it was so _fascinating_ and important to discovering the cure they desired so bad?

"Well, I hit a wall, per say," something about the word choice made Gracelyn's eyes narrow, "and I couldn't learn anything more from it. So, I asked Merle to dispose of it."

Milton's voice sounded off. It wasn't the normal, shaky, unnerved treble she had become accustomed to in the last month or even the animated drawl she had heard only a moment ago. There was something more to his story than he was sharing with her. She wasn't going to question him though while Philip was there because he was the one holding Milton's leash, reeling it in slowly when he gave too much away.

"So... what?" Gracelyn gave a small, harsh laugh. "Did you learn _anything_? Did you discover the cure to zombification?"

Milton's eyes drifted to Philip. Their stares met; discontent evident on both faces.

"Wow," Gracelyn let loose a frank laugh and looked between the two, "Shocker…!"

Neither of the men said anything. Milton looked away from Gracelyn's intent look of knowing. For the first time in a long time, it made Milton felt as though he wasn't as intelligent as he thought.

"Isn't there anyone you knew that got bit? Someone you loved that you would give anything to have back?" Philip's query was soft and broken. Gracelyn knew the tone. She began to wonder who it was that he had lost. "A friend? A lover? …your parents?"

Gracelyn's expression softened. Of course there were people she cared about who had been affected by this epidemic. She had had friends at Duke. She had watched those friends turn into monsters, turn on others they had known. She had her parents, which she didn't know whether or not they were alive; whether they were even human. They very well could be monsters just like so many others. They could be mindless, ravenous killers right now; tearing... ripping... maiming beasts that fed upon those who happened upon them.

"Of course I do." Gracelyn answered after a moment of deafening silence. She gave a small, slow shrug of her bare, abased shoulders that stung in the action. "But… does that really justify the means? How can you be sure that the pros outweigh the cons if you aren't certain a cure is even possible?"

She looked to Milton, who raised his gaze hesitantly to meet hers.

"If you aren't certain it's probable." She spoke directly to him. She watched his eyes drift away again from her unyielding stare as though ashamed.

"How can you be so sure it's not?" Philip countered, seeming to be slightly put off by her reaction. He had hoped to sway her to their side; his side. "The only reason you're sayin' that is because you still have your brothers."

Gracelyn moved her eyes back to him.

"If you didn't have them," he began to rationalize as he waved a finger at nothing, "if you were all alone in this Hell, you'd be quick to believe the same."

"You're right." She agreed wholeheartedly. She hated it. She would have liked to believe she could have overcome the loneliness, the helplessness, but it was true. She would be on their side **if** she were alone. "If I were on my own I would be more than alright with all of this. I'm not alone though and I'm seeing things a little more clearly than you right now because of it. But then again, you're not exactly on your own either."

She took a quick glance at Milton.

"Neither of you are. You have each other. You have this town. You have these people: living, breathing, human people. They've put their trust in you to keep them safe." She stopped and looked between them a moment. "But you're putting them in danger when you bring in the things you're trying so hard to keep out."

"How can you be so sure that they don't know? That they don't feel the same way Milton and I do?" Philip questioned, aiming a pointer and middle finger at the doors of the laboratory for effect.

"I have no doubt that if they knew they would be all for it if you could promise them nothing would go wrong. But I know they're in the dark about all this because you and Milton were the only ones following me here." She affirmed with a straight face. Her eyes drifted to Philip's belt where her knife sat secured. "No one else noticed me trying to conceal a knife when every other person is swinging theirs willy-nilly. No one even noticed me running out from the building to get away from you. Everyone in Woodbury is too caught up in this illusion they've created to see that there's real danger here; right under their noses."

Gracelyn took a deep breath, having gotten caught up in her thoughts. Philip clicked his tongue. He gave a huff of a laugh and ran a hand over his mouth, turning to the model of Woodbury on the table behind him. He looked over the buildings of cardboard and then placed his hands on the edge of the table, hovering over it. He studied it a long moment. Gracelyn looked to Milton, who met her stare.

"You're smart."

"I'm **clever**." She elucidated without missing a beat, turning back to look at the Governor. "There's a difference."

Philip gave another huffy laugh as his eyes trailed over his town of Woodbury. He knew each and every building by heart; had crafted each piece with every little, straining detail. He knew who lived where and with whom, for how long, when they had moved in, where they worked, where they spent their free time, etcetera. This was **his** town. They were **his** people.

He turned back to Gracelyn.

"There is, isn't there?" He questioned rhetorically. His voice was soft, but menacing. It sounded too ominous to belong to the man Gracelyn had met the first day she and her brothers came to Woodbury. He moved closer to her; step by daunting step. He stood before her, looking hard down at her. "You were right. You ain't anythin' like your brothers."

Something sounded wrong by the comment. There was a meaning hidden behind his words. Gracelyn translated it just fine though.

_…they ain't the ones I have to worry about…_

Despite her efforts, Gracelyn was intimidated and swallowed the threat down hard. It did not go unnoticed by Philip. His lips curled into an eerie, satisfied smirk.

"I suppose that's a good thing though." He looked between her eyes, seeing just how much he intimidated her. She may be clever, but he knew he could get a leash on her like he had so many others in Woodbury. "We could use more people like you 'round here."

A lie…

Gracelyn straightened herself up. She was not about to be made a fool of.

"Too bad there aren't," she began with a straight face, "but I that's because people, in general, are just simply hard to come by these days. So many think they're in control of everything going on and just… wind up dead one day."

Philip gave soft, snort of a laugh. He understood her threat. He was beginning to like her more and more.

"You think we're goin' to run into that problem?" He questioned and scanned her face for any sign that she was going to try something. She scanned his as well.

"Course not." Gracelyn shot back with a sarcastic smile. She didn't understand what had happened. This man, the Governor, had started off so sweet like sugar. Now, the taste had soured. Did she really threaten him this much to draw out such a dark, sinister side? She stared up at him and searched for any indication that he was going to harm her or her brothers. "Do you?"

Philip leaned back slightly, expression changing to gentle contemplation.

"Nah." He replied simply.

Milton watched silently from his spot, a fly on the wall, and begged that they both would just leave. He couldn't stand the tension, the animosity that was growing between them. He didn't like conflict.

Philip gave a laugh, a **genuine** laugh, and ran a hand over his mouth and rubbed his chin.

"Well, alright. I like you Miss Lyn." He gave a smile and bounced a finger at her, laughing again. "I really do believe you're gonna fit in just fine."

Gracelyn was utterly confused. Her face went blank and her eyes darted back and forth across his face, trying to understand. She glanced at Milton quickly, finding that he knew nothing more than she did, and then turned back to Philip.

"…what?" She breathed out. Philip extended a hand to her and set it down on her shoulder. She flinched and looked at it swiftly before her eyes returned to his face.

"We need good people like you, Miss Lyn, but I had to be certain you could hold your own if need be. We have a lot of good gunmen, but no snipers. Especially, not trained ones and there are some men around here that, well… just don't think much of women with a gun." He explained; face returning to the normal face of the Governor she knew. Her eyes grew slightly wider as she struggled to wrap her head around what had happened. "I'll have you stand the wall with Merle tomorrow. Now that I know his personality won't knock you down or break you. He can, as you know by now, be a bit of a handful."

"That was all just some messed up test of yours?" Gracelyn asked as a knot of fire began to burn in her chest. She felt embarrassed, foolish, angry, and relieved. For a split second, she doubted the idea of this being some dramatic assessment of her personality.

"Welcome to Woodbury Miss Lyn." Philip let his hand fall from her shoulder and then walked passed her, nodding his head at Milton as he went.

He left the warehouse, leaving Milton and Gracelyn inside. The sun hit his face as he headed out of the alley with strong, sure strides. He headed home, throwing Gracelyn's knife on his kitchen table when he walked through the door. He looked to the back wall where his desk sat and behind it a glass cabinet. He walked to the cabinet and slide the door open on one side.

He stared down at the rifle. It sat slanted in the cabinet, being almost four feet in length and nearly unable to be in the cabinet at all. It was a slick black with nicks and scratches and slender. He pulled it out, testing its weight, and then closed the glass door. He sat down at his desk and admired the gun for a long moment.

A smug look graced his face.

He had gotten exactly what he wanted out of her and she would never even realize it. She was clever. So clever that she had actually begun to figure out the game he was playing while he was playing it. Had even started playing it herself until he steered her away like he had done to others. She was good, but he was **untouchable**.

Philip, the Governor of Woodbury, lifted the rifle up. He extended its legs and set it on the desk, taking hold of it in his hands. He pressed it firmly to his right shoulder and gripped its neck with his left hand, right pointer finger resting on the trigger. He leaned down and shut his left eye, pretending to look through the scope that Gracelyn had removed and kept hidden in her room.

"I have _complete_ control." He breathed out and pulled the trigger.


	11. Chapter 10

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Ten**

There was a nip in the air today. Its bite blew through the full, healthy trees and over the lush, green grass. It rushed through the streets, unhindered, and rose up over the town walls with a vengeance.

"Not cold are ya?" Merle piped up from where he stood on the wall. He had spotted Gracelyn walking up a mile away and it wasn't because her hair was a personal beacon. She was dressed in a stark white windbreaker with her rifle at her side. "Cause if you are, I would be more than happy to warm ya up."

She looked up at him and couldn't help but crack a smile.

"The windbreaker Jolene gave me works just fine. I'll remember the offer though for the next time." She laughed back as she climbed up the ladder leaning against the wall. Merle bent down and grasped her left forearm with his left hand, helping her up. Little Merle, Merle's metal encased stump of a right hand, bounced gently against his hip.

"So, Barbie's with me and Jacobsen today, huh?" He asked and looked her over. While licking his lips lustfully, playfully, he gives a small 'mhm'. "Could be worse, I s'pose."

"Shut up." She laughed and shook her head. She smiled at Jacobsen and gave a small wave. He waved back.

"Yup, could be worse." He started again and clicked his tongue. "Could be stuck up here again with nothin' to look at 'cept Martinez's ugly mug and listening to Jacobsen babblin'. At least with you, I can stare at your ass when I get bored."

Gracelyn said nothing. She just continued to shake her head as she moved to the edge of the wall. She looked out over the dirt path that led into the city, remembering the day she and her brothers had driven up it to return Milton Mamet home.

It seemed like yesterday…

"Now, now… is that regret I see in those doe eyes, Barbie?" Merle watched her from his spot. She looked over at him, squinting when the sun hit her face. "You're not sorry for joinin' us fine citizens of Woodbury, now are you?"

"No, just… remembering." She had faltered for only a split second, but Merle noticed. It was hard not to when you spent so much time with someone. She had been following him around like a lost pup for weeks. Just appeared suddenly one day on the wall with her rifle in hand and the day after that and the day after that and the day after that...

He looked back at the town behind him, watching a few people walk around and then licked his lips in consideration. He looked back at Gracelyn. Her hair swayed in the breeze, fly-aways catching in the sunlight like pieces of gold thread. He ran his tongue along his bottom front teeth, causing his lip to protrude outward.

"How long's it been?" He questioned. He hadn't cared enough to keep track of it. He only cared about himself after all.

"Since…?" She encouraged, not bothering to look back at him. She knew exactly what he was getting at and he knew that she was avoiding it. He shifted his weight from his right leg to his left and tapped his encased stump of an arm against his side.

"Since your wonderful brothers left you behind with us heathens." He clarified and rested his left arm on the gun slung slanted over his shoulder and chest. He watched her turn her head to the side as though she was going to look at him, but stopped. She stared out at nothing, but Merle could she her eyes gloss over.

She lost herself to the thoughts she had pushed so far back into her mind she had believed had disappeared altogether.

"Just forget I said anythin'." He spoke up and looked to his left, sun hitting the side of his face. He moved on along the wall to the other side, leaving her to the biting wind. She looked back out at the path after a moment.

It had been a month since Liam and Kenneth had just vanished into thin air.

* * *

_~Flash Back~_

_ "Welcome to Woodbury Miss Lyn." Philip let his hand fall from her shoulder and then walked passed her, nodding his head at Milton as he went. Gracelyn followed him with her eyes and then had turned on Milton once the Governor was long gone._

_ "What the Hell? Did you know he was going to do that? Did you two plan out the whole damn thing, knowing I would come here to kill the biter?" She interrogated, the feeling of embarrassment and anger still holding strong. Milton looked almost terrified at her. Despite the dress pants and the tucked in short sleeved dress shirt, he reminded her of a skittish mouse. She could see a bead of sweat beginning on his brow and knew: he hadn't known anymore than she had._

_"I'm sorry." She apologized as her anger slipped away. Her eyes softened. She sighed softly and let her eyes drift to the floor. She was suddenly aware of the stinging on her back._

_"Does it hurt?" Milton piped up softly. Gracelyn looked to him and took notice that he was looking at her from the corner of his eyes. She shook her head, her hair falling over her shoulders. He looked away and at the makeshift desk beside him. He turned his back to her and began shuffling papers. "You have Doctor Stevens look at it."_

_"Yeah." She replied, but didn't move. She watched Milton carefully as he tried to appear busy. "You know, I really didn't expect him to trust me as much as he apparently does."_

_"You've been very helpful since you arrived." He pushed the neatly stacked papers aside and pulled the familiar notebook closer to him. "Philip knows that. He's grateful."_

_"Grateful." She gave a small laugh. "All I've done, is collect flowers and insects; taken inventory of food and water. All the things a complete moron could do. And he's anything but grateful."_

_"He's letting you and your brothers stay."_

_"Liam and Kenneth don't want to."_

_"I'm sure they'll come around."_

_"How can you be sure?"_

_"Because you're their sister." Milton glanced back at her. His expression made the idea seem obvious. "They would do anything to keep you safe; happy."_

_"Keep me safe…" She scoffed and shook her head. "If my brothers ever find out that the Governor laid a hand on me today the way he did… they'll kill him."_

_"You had a knife." Milton felt guilty. He didn't mention that before __**he**__ had piped up in the alley about the knife, Philip had never even noticed it, which meant that his actions towards her then were something else entirely. He turned back to his desk and began shuffling through things once more. "You had just suffered a traumatic experience before hand. He was worried about what you would do being in such a delicate state. He couldn't guess at your intent."_

_Gracelyn grit her teeth. That word, 'intent', stung._

_"Were you worried?" Gracelyn countered with. She knew she was being unfair. Milton hadn't done anything to her. He was an innocent bystander. "Did you think I was going to hurt someone in town?"_

_"No." Milton replied._

_"Myself then?"_

_"No."_

_"So why the Hell did he?"_

_Milton said nothing. He had no answer that would satisfy her. He didn't even have one to satisfy himself. As good of friends as he and Philip were, as they appeared to be, the Governor kept secrets even from him._

_"Please, help me understand, Milton." She almost begged him. He ceased what he was doing and looked at her._

_"I'm positive that he didn't know what you would do. Neither did I. We couldn't be sure what was going on in your mind." His voice had picked up speed. He was becoming increasingly uncomfortable again. "Why he reacted the way he did… I don't have an answer for that."_

_Gracelyn noticed his nervousness. She refrained herself from going on._

_"I knew him before all of this." Milton, however, felt a need to explain; to defend the Governor. "Philip was a good man. He still is, but there are things that have happened that have essentially broken him down. He never asked to be 'The Governor.' However, he became that man and fussed together the broken pieces to try and bring back normalcy. Surely, you can understand that a little. We all can on some level."_

_Gracelyn's eyes drifted to the model. She licked her lips slowly and then nodded her head. Of course she understood. Everyone still alive could. They all shared a common bond now._

_Slowly she walked to the corner of the warehouse where the armchair and bookcase sat. Milton followed behind her quietly with his notebook in hand and made sure to keep a few feet of distance between them._

_"I haven't seen so many books since I worked at a library. Well, it was actually a Bookmobile that branched out of a stationary library." She released a ghost of a laugh; the laugh of a memory far away. She gently ran her fingers over the bindings of the books in the bookcase as she passed by. She tugged one out and read the back cover. "Growing up, I always had my nose in a book. My dad called me the 'bookworm' said it was the 'Ennis Syndrome.'"_

_"I'm not familiar with that syndrome." Milton spoke up and watched as she pushed the book back into its place on the bookcase. Gracelyn laughed and looked back at him with a genuine smile._

_"Ennis was my mom's maiden name. She always had a book in her hand. Sometimes she would read three simultaneously." Gracelyn looked back at the bookcase, eyes scanning the titles on the bindings. "I tried to read two at the same time. I got everything mixed up."_

_She moved to the record player and looked at the title of the current record waiting to be played._

_"Glenn Miller." She spoke aloud and smiled. She flipped a switch and the machine came to life. She gently took the needle and placed it on the record. After a moment of scratching, music echoed softly through the warehouse. "Good song. 'In The Mood' is my favorite though."_

_She looked to Milton from over her shoulder and noticed the notebook._

_"What's so special about that thing?" She turned around and nodded at his hand. He took the notebook in both of his hands before him and glanced at it._

_"Just keeping a record." He replied simply, returning the notebook to his side once more._

_"Record of what?"_

_"Everything." Gracelyn couldn't help but to laugh. It was so… Milton._

_"May I?" She outstretched a hand, hoping he would comply. He looked at her hand and then at the notebook, contemplating. Slowly, he handed it to her._

_"I don't see why not." He replied as she took it. Her fingers gently grazed his hand in the exchange. His face flushed, cheeks burning. He quickly turned on his heels, hoping that she hadn't seen and headed to the makeshift desk. He nearly missed the chair when he went to sit down. He gave a small, clearing cough and pulled himself to the desk._

_Gracelyn moved to the armchair. She crossed her right leg beneath her and let her left dangle, toes grazing the hideously designed round rug on the ground. She leaned back in the chair, making herself comfortable and opened the notebook. She read and read as Glenn Miller played in the background faintly until the record finished._

_Hour after hour passed by._

_Milton finally looked up from his work. His gaze fell upon the armchair where Gracelyn sat slouched and fast asleep. His notebook lie open in her lap, thumb visible on the page filled with scribbling. He peered down at the watch on his wrist: 11:43 PM. He hadn't realized that so much time had passed by._

_Milton jumped as the door to the warehouse swung open with a fury. Merle rushed inside and caught sight of Milton._

_"Where's the girl?" He barked. Milton nodded his head to the corner where Gracelyn was just starting to wake up, having heard Merle's shout. "Hey sweetheart! Wakie, wakie!"_

_Merle marched to the corner and pulled Gracelyn to her feet. The notebook fell from her lap and onto the floor._

_"What's going on?" She asked through a yawn and rubbed her eyes. "Why are you shouting?"_

_"The Gov'na has requested your presence." He answered; a hint of sarcasm in his voice._

_"__**Why**__?" Milton asked and rose from his seat. Gracelyn could hear the suspicion in his voice, unhindered by coyness. The light from the desk lamp bounced from the desk top and cast shadows over parts of his face._

_"Seems her brothers have flown the coop." Merle replied and took Gracelyn by the upper arm, all but dragging her to the door of the warehouse._

_"They what…?" She asked. Suddenly she was wide awake. Milton followed at their heels as they stepped out into the alley and then into the street. "What do you mean, Merle?"_

_"Your brothers are gone, Barbie Doll. Ducked tail and ran off into the night, takin' that Hum'ma with them." Merle explained as he pulled her along beside him. Gracelyn stumbled a few times. Had Merle not had such a firm hold on her she would have gone face first into the pavement._

_"Would you be a little more civilized?" Milton spoke up from behind the two, watching as Merle tugged Gracelyn once again. She stumbled and Milton quickly lurched forward, hand at the ready to try and catch her, but she recovered. Something felt wrong about this to him; very, very wrong._

_"I'm just doin' my job." Merle retorted, restraining himself from lashing at the good scientist. He was irked, but not by Milton or Gracelyn._

_"You're going to hurt her." Milton protested and laid a hand on Merle's arm, intending to pull it away from Gracelyn. Merle suddenly halted and spun on Milton, glaring down at him._

_"Boy, you better let go." His voice was low. Milton swallowed hard and let his hand fall from Merle._

_"She's already hurt." Milton's voice shook, but became stronger as he went on. "You're going to make it worse."_

_"She'll live." Merle opened the door to Philip's apartment building and pulled Gracelyn inside. "…for now…"_

_Gracelyn and Milton heard the soft words that slipped past Merle's lips like an omen. Gracelyn tried to look back at Milton, but Merle tugged her along up the stairs. He knocked on Philip's door and waited, not bothering to make eye contact with either of the two with him. The door opened to reveal Philip, who didn't look too pleased._

_"Bring her in." He ordered and Merle was quick to obey. He tugged Gracelyn inside the apartment, Milton following. Philip closed the door and turned around. Merle let go of Gracelyn's arm and took a step away from her. She looked at the three men before her, completely at a loss._

_"What's going on?" She demanded and looked to Philip for the answer. "Merle said my brothers are gone."_

_"They are." He began and walked further into the room. He placed his hands on the back of a chair and leaned. "Walked straight through the front gate."_

_"What?" She really didn't understand now. "How did they get passed the guards?"_

_"Slit one of their throats; snapped the other's neck." He explained, face expressing his rage. Gracelyn looked over at Merle for confirmation. He met her gaze for a moment and then looked away._

_It was true._

_ "Then they drove off in that Hummer you all arrived in. Stole several of weapons and a bit of the ammunition; food and water. Even stole some medical supplies."_

_Gracelyn opened her mouth to say something, but didn't know what to say. She didn't know what she could say. It didn't sound right. That wasn't something her brothers would do. Especially, not without telling her or taking her with them._

_"What was the plan?" Philip's accusation hit her like a hot poker. "Earn our trust and then take us for everythin' we have?"_

_"You can't actually believe that I had something to do with this." She snapped as he eyes narrowed. Her face contorted in anger. "I was with Milton all day!"_

_"It's true." Milton said his peace and was silenced by a flaming stare from Philip._

_"Not all day." Philip corrected and straightened himself up. "Where were you this mornin'?"_

_"I had been in my room until you showed up." She replied sternly. His look spoke to her, asking if she really had been in her room all morning. "I went to bed late, woke up late and then was greeted by you when I stepped out of my room for the first time."_

_"What were you doin' up so late?"_

_Gracelyn wanted huff and stamp her feet in frustration. She didn't care much for explaining her every action and why she had done them, but she had the feeling that if she didn't convince Philip, then something horrible was going to happen. And it was only Philip who needed convincing. As Gracelyn looked from Milton to Merle she could tell that neither of them believed she had played a role in her brother's treachery._

_"I asked you a question." Philip brought her attention back to his hard stare._

_"I was sitting at my window; waiting, watching." Gracelyn realized as the word slipped out how poorly she had worded her answer._

_"Watchin' what?"_

_"The town."_

_"For?"_

_"The biter." She replied bitterly. She wanted to say, __**the biter that you all led me to believe was in Milton's lab**__, but she refrained. She didn't want to dig herself in deeper._

_"When were you supposed to meet up with your brothers?" Philip pushed himself away from the chair and rounded the table slowly. "Later? After they had done all the heavy liftin'? After they had done the dirty work?"_

_"I had nothing to do with that! With any of this!" Gracelyn screeched. "I haven't even seen them since yesterday when you were telling them they were doing a piss poor job at keeping me safe!"_

_"I told the truth! Now, tell __**me**__ the truth!"_

_"That is the truth, you dumb son of a bitch!"_

_"Quit lyin' Lyn!"_

_"I'm not lying!"_

_"You are! Now tell me! How long had you all been planin' this?!"_

_"I don't know!"_

_"You do! How long?!"_

_"I don't know anything!" Her eyes burned with tears. Her anger was quickly becoming fear and panic. The look that crossed his face frightened her. "I haven't done anything wrong! I swear!"_

_She looked to Merle and then to Milton. Her eyes pleaded with them to help her; to make this mad man who was accusing her see that she was no liar; that she was no traitor._

_"Merle." Philip stared at Gracelyn. Merle's gaze moved to the taller man and then he took a step towards Gracelyn. He grabbed her upper arm and, with alarm, jerked away. He grabbed her upper arm again and held on tighter._

_"Please, I haven't done anything…!" She looked up at Merle and then tried to pry his hand from her._

_"Get her out of my sight." Philip ordered and turned away from her, heading for the bottle of whiskey on his counter. "And take care of her."_

_"Yes, Gov'na." Merle complied._

_"Please! I didn't know what they were planning!" She pleaded and struggled against Merle's firm hold._

_"Come on, Barbie." Merle instructed softly with gentleness in his voice. He began pulling her towards the door, but she struggled and fought against him. She dug her heels in to the wooden floors of the apartment._

_"I swear I didn't know! I swear!" She continued to scream as tears rolled down her cheeks. Merle pulled her out of the apartment and closed the door, leaving Milton to watch Philip with dread apparent on his face._

* * *

Gracelyn closed her eyes and let the icy wind strike her face.

They had locked her away in her room that night; wouldn't let her out for three days. Not to eat, not to perform chores, not for anything. Two guards had stood watch by her door per order of Philip Blake; the mad king of Woodbury. He suspected that Liam and Kenneth were truly coming back to take her with them.

This had gone on for a week. Then two weeks. Until finally 'Philip had seen the light' or as Milton had said the day he came to free her:

"He has seen the errors in his calculations."

He had been trying to make her feel better or perhaps just sticking up for the one person he called friend inside of Woodbury. Either way, it made no difference to her. The sad fact was that her brother had left her.

They never came back…

…and she never tried to escape.


	12. Chapter 11

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Eleven**

"Walkers!" Merle shouted from where he stood with Martinez on the wall. The men on guard quickly moved into action, taking up their weapons. Merle went to retrieve his gun from around his neck. He raised it, aimed and shots began to ring out, but they weren't his and they weren't the other men's.

"Who the Hell's shootin'?!" Merle shouted as the walkers began to drop one by one. He looked around at the others in search of who it was. The other men looked back at him and then each other confused. "We're under attack!"

"No! We're not!" A meager voice suddenly called out. Merle looked down the stairs that led to the streets of Woodbury and saw Milton staring back up at him in dress pants and a plaid, short-sleeved button up. "We're not under attack!"

Milton pointed to the building to his right, across the street.

"It's Gracelyn!" He explained and looked back at Merle.

"Hey look! Up there!" Martinez shouted and pointed to a rooftop corner that Milton just had pointed out. Merle looked up and saw Gracelyn flat on her stomach with her rifle set up. She moved the weapon slowly from left to right, shooting her targets with ease as she went. When she was finished, she pulled herself back from her scope and looked down at the wall where everyone was staring back up at her from. Her gaze dragged from several guards to Martinez to Jacobsen to Merle, and then to Milton.

She didn't wave.

She didn't smile.

She only stared at them for a moment and then examined the world through her scope once more, shooting the walking dead on the other side of the wall.

"The puta is fuckin' crazy." Martinez commented, watching Gracelyn up on the roof. She was perched like a gargoyle, watching over Woodbury, mindlessly gunning down those who threatened the living.

"Is that really necessary?" Milton's rhetorically question made Martinez glare menacingly. Milton shrunk almost instantly beneath his gaze.

"Weren't you supposed to be watchin' her?" Martinez retorted and moved to the edge of the wall. He crouched, gun lying over the top of his thighs. "Couldn't even do that, could you? What exactly do you do around here except get in the way?"

Milton said nothing. He **was** supposed to have been watching Gracelyn, but he had gotten so wrapped up in his work that he hadn't noticed her leave. She had been so quiet, curled up in the armchair with one of his books while listening to Glenn Miller. She had slipped right passed his desk and out the door without as much as a sigh.

"You let a little _girl_ out shoot ya'll." Merle taunted Martinez, tired of hearing the pointless mocking of the four-eyed scientist. "Do I gotta find you a tampon or are you gonna grow some balls and get back to guardin' the damn wall?"

Martinez huffed and walked away while Merle looked back up at Gracelyn. She continued to shoot meticulously, rifle gliding slowly from left to right and then back again like some kind of radar.

"Thank you." Milton glanced at Merle, noticing him shaking his head.

"I didn't do it for you, _Mildred_." Merle mocked and narrowed his eyes against the sun blaring in his eyes. Milton looked anywhere but at him. He was used to the mocking, but it didn't make it any less humiliating. Merle nodded his head at Gracelyn, "Go on now. Get that girl down before she falls or one of the men shoots her down."

He started to walk away, but Milton caught what he spoke under his breath, _"She and those walkers have a lot in common; killin' whateva they can… walkin' 'round dead. Surprised she hasn't taken the swan dive yet."_

Milton watched Merle walk away with a troubled eye. Those same troubled eyes moved back to the rooftop. He placed a hand to the right side of his face to block the sun and studied Gracelyn a moment with concern. She hadn't been acting like herself for some time now. He had noticed almost right away. It was the tone in her voice, the way she looked at the world with heavy eyes.

Gracelyn pulled back from her scope again, feeling as though she were being watched with a firm eye. She looked down upon the streets of town. She caught Milton's stare. She lifted herself up from the rooftop with her rifle in hand and held it against her hip with its legs still propped outwards. She placed her left foot on the lip of the rooftop, knee slightly bent. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, but small baby-hairs blew about her face. She could feel the tightness tugging at the base of her neck, stinging, but she didn't care. She had a pair of aviator sunglasses with a deep purple lens on her head. She wore black cargo pants, a tight black turtleneck of spandex and an olive green vest that was open.

She looked menacing. She looked like…

"Milton!" Milton looked behind him at the call of his name. Philip walked up to him looking put-together; burgundy shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black vest and tan pants. He stopped beside him, right eye squinting against the brilliance of the midday sun. He placed his hands on his waist and looked down at Milton, who opened his mouth to speak and then looked back up at the roof where Gracelyn was.

"What's goin' on? I heard yellin'." He asked and waited a moment for Milton to reply, but then followed where his eyes had gone only a moment before. His eyes landed on Gracelyn.

"Well…" Milton broke off and looked back at the building. Gracelyn slowly raised a hand to her head and dragged her sunglasses down over her eyes. She and Philip just stared at one another for a long moment.

"What's she doin' up there?" Philip asked in a slow, steady voice. He wasn't upset or worried, just _curious_. Milton could hear it. It was thick, almost rolling over his tongue and dripping from his lips.

"She's uh- she killed some of _them_." He explained and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "She did it before the guards on duty could react."

"How many she kill?" He questioned and looked back at Milton for a brief moment.

"I'm not sure." Milton replied slowly, eyebrows knitting together. For some reason, Philip made him nervous or more, the look on Philip's face; a pleased smirk. Philip placed a hand on Milton's shoulder and nodded his head.

"_Good_." Philip remarked and then strolled away with some kind of hop in his step that Milton had never seen before. Milton looked back at Gracelyn and spotted her turn from the edge of the roof, walking away from sight.

Gracelyn headed towards the exit, slinging her rifle over her shoulder. She sauntered down the staircase with her flat, black wrap boots tapping against the smooth cement. She reached the ground level and walked out the exit that led into the alley.

Milton was waiting.

"A new outfit from Jolene?" He asked, trying to break the ice. Gracelyn stared at him for a long moment, looking over his own outfit. They were night and day. "No. These are the clothes I brought with me."

He nodded his head and looked down at the ground for a moment. Slowly, head tilted slightly to the side, he looked back at her again.

"What are you doing?" He asked carefully. She hadn't given him any reason to be acting cautious, but something about the look on her face made him think she had woken up, not only on the wrong side of the bed, but in the wrong bed in the wrong part of the world. He watched her move from the closing door. It closed, latch catching with a click.

Gracelyn swallowed hard, but hid it well. There was a look in Milton's green eyes that made her feel shameful.

"Defending the town: isn't that what I'm here to do?" She responded simply and walked passed him onto the sidewalk. He followed at her heels, unknowing that she was grimacing.

"That's not what I mean." He tried to clarify, struggling to keep up with her pace without looking as though he were jogging lightly behind her.

"Then what did you mean?" She demanded and spun on her heels. Milton ran into her, nearly running her down. She caught him; rifle fell to the ground, hands rested on his sides. He stumbled backwards and then regained his stance. With shaky hands he fixed his shirt and coughed to cover up his nervousness once he had finished.

"Are you alright?" Gracelyn asked and picked up her rifle, slinging it over her shoulder once again.

"Uh… y-yes. Yes, I'm fine." He replied and fixed his glasses. Gracelyn watched him a moment longer and then turned to walk away again. "Wait."

She stopped. She took a deep breath and sighed before turning around.

"Why are you acting like this?" He motioned to the way she was holding herself, the way she was dressed, the rifle in her arms. "This isn't you."

"How would you know? You don't know anything about me." She retorted with bitterness seeping from her voice despite her best efforts to keep it hidden. "None of you do. You all-"

She shut her mouth and looked away. Milton could see her jaw clenched, teeth gritted together behind thinly lined lips. Her eyes burned with resentment at the wall to her side.

"Everyone treats me like I'm a traitor, Milton." She started, teeth grinding. "I hear what they say about me. Some of them don't even bother to do it behind my back. They call me mole and outsider… Others are a little crueler."

She looked around at the people in town. Some walked around blissfully, but there were others who stood in a group of three or more, pointing and whispering assiduously while stealing glances at her.

"Look. They're doing it now." She ordered gently. Milton noticed for the first time people, who stole glances at Gracelyn and then would turn back to their group quickly as not to be caught; people, who blatantly glowered at her; people, who altogether ignored her as they passed her by on the street. He had been lost in his work, his own little world, and not noticed what was happening around the town.

"Word about my brothers got out pretty fast." Gracelyn started and tore her gaze from those who shot venomous glares her way. "But it was immediate that everyone in Woodbury labeled me, Judas Iscariot. They all overlooked the fact that Liam and Kenneth left me behind."

Her voice was broken.

Milton looked back at her with sympathy. He could see in her eyes the tears that had begun to burn the whites red. He declared silently to himself that Merle was wrong. She wasn't like the biters on the other side of the wall.

They were _dead_. She was **dying**; drowning. The people were holding her head beneath the water created of their stares and whispers.

Milton and Gracelyn had spent so much time together since her brothers had deserted her. She joked and laughed, smiled and even sang. Yet, she had never mentioned anything of this; had never even given him a hint that something was happening; that she was drowning right before his eyes.

He looked back at her in time to see a tear roll down her cheek and her quickly wipe it away. He wanted to say something to comfort her, but he didn't know what. She was constantly throwing him into situations he was uncomfortable with; situations he had never been allowed to experience when he was growing up or even as an adult when the world was right.

"They overlook the fact that my brothers haven't come back for me." Gracelyn shook her head and then turned away. Milton followed behind her again as she led them away. They walked for a while behind the buildings. The grass crunched beneath their feet gently.

"Milton could hear her sniffle now and again. He felt the urge to place a hand on her back, stop her from walking and pull her into his arms. But his hands begun to sweat and tingle and he lost all his nerve.

Gracelyn led them to the chain link fence. It was the only place she could get away from them all without running off into the chaos. No one ever dared come this close to the outside world. They rather liked the thick, impermeable stone and metal walls at the other sections in town. Places where the illusion Woodbury provided wouldn't disappear with a single glance. This was the only place Gracelyn felt at home now: this and Milton's lab.

She sat crossed legged on the splotchy ground of grass patches and dirt. She set the butt of her rifle beside her right hip and wrapped an arm around it to secure it to her side. She stared out down the mangled road filled with bodies, cars and deserted homes.

"You know… not one of them bothered to ask me if I knew what was going to happen; if I helped." She spoke up, eyes never leaving the foreboding sight. Milton looked down at her from where he stood with hands hanging loosely at his sides. "They all just… accepted that I had done it. They took _his_ word before getting my side of the story."

"He's one of us. They look up to him to lead them in the right direction. They trust Philip." Milton studied her face a moment. Her lips curled into a scornful ghost of a smile.

"_They trust __**Philip**_…" She repeated with disparage laced in her voice. Her words sunk in slowly as his mind registered what she meant; what he had said. He squeezed his eyes shut in almost a grimace.

"I hadn't meant it that way." He sounded almost afraid of his own voice. He was walking a very thin line with her. It was unfamiliar territory. Their whole 'relationship', or whatever **this** was, was foreign to him. "I simply meant-"

"I know." Gracelyn bit out, trying to hold back her tears and shook her head once. Her eyes narrowed and darkened, but she didn't look to him. "I just… I feel like the interloper that everyone wants to tie to a stake in the center of town and burn."

She fell silent. Milton looked down at her now and then, glancing really, worried she may notice. He noticed her expression change, eyebrows knitting together in contemplation.

"Milton," she began and then waited for either a reply or for the rest of her thoughts to emerge, "you never asked me."

"Asked you what?" He breathed out and swallowed the nervousness that was quickly washing over him. His hands fidgeted before him as Gracelyn turned her head slightly and stared at the ground before his shoes.

"You never asked me if I did it." She clarified as her expression seemed to twitch, too many thoughts running through her mind at once. "Why didn't you ask me?"

She looked up at him.

"Well, I-I…" He stuttered. He didn't know what to say. "I was busy with my research."

"No." She shook her head and pushed herself up from the ground. "That's not it because even Merle had enough time to search me out and ask."

"Merle asked you?" Milton was surprised and confused by this. Merle wasn't the type of person to care one way or another about anyone's problems. They were **their** problems; not _his_. "When? Why?"

Gracelyn scrutinized him.

"You didn't ask, because," her voice drifted away as it became clear to her, "because you don't know if you can trust me either."

Gracelyn's eyes stung with tears again. She gave a choking laugh to cover up the sob that had worked its way into her throat. She turned her gaze from him and looked out at the nightmarish street.

"I expected all of them not to trust me when I first got here… Especially, after what happened a month ago… but..." Her voice cracked as her breathing became heavy and short. "But after having spent so much time with you… I never would have guessed that you didn't trust me."

She gave a small cry and raised the back of one of her hands to her mouth, muffling her cries. Slowly she closed her eyes as her face contorted in injury; pain.

Milton realized that he had wounded her. He the mousy, awkward scientist had wounded this woman crying before him.

"Gracelyn." He outstretched a hand to her, but she swatted it away. She wouldn't meet his gaze. After another second, she marched away with her rifle held tightly to her.

This time Milton didn't follow. He stood in his place for another moment and then slinked back to his lab with his held hung low.


	13. Chapter 12

**.:WARNING:.:WARNING:.:WARNING:.**

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**.:WARNING:.:WARNING:.:WARNING:.**

This chapter of Saving Grace contains material unsuitable for some readers.

Bottom line, it has a bit of smut. Yes, you read this right: SMUT. I hate myself for this chapter and I feel like a cruel god, but this is how the story just poured out of my newly discovered, perverted mind.

**.:WARNING:.:WARNING:.:WARNING:.**

**.:WARNING:.:WARNING:.:WARNING:.**

**.:WARNING:.:WARNING:.:WARNING:.**

Dear Milton,

I am so sorry…

Love always,

Winnie

* * *

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Twelve**

The town was dark. Everyone was asleep in their safe, warm beds inside of their safe, warm homes. Milton Mamet, however, was not. He walked along the sidewalk with his notebook held tightly at his side and a hand in his pocket. He walked alone, feeling the crisp breeze of winter's end on his face. He walked down the all too familiar alley and found the metal door to his lab. He walked inside and stopped before the door, hearing it click shut.

There was so much… _junk_ in his lab. Wires hung from the ceiling, connecting to various electronics. Papers and books were scattered about. Dust had collected here and there without the attentive care they had been used to receiving two weeks ago.

She was gone. She was gone and she wasn't coming back.

Milton had finally resided on this fact. He had accepted it. She and he were merely strangers now and acted as such when they passed each other in town. But every now and then he would sneak a peek at her, just as they were beside one another. He could still see on her face the girl he had known, but to the rest of Woodbury she was 'Lyn' now.

She had somehow managed to weasel her way back into the good graces of the people. Not alone though. Merle had helped her; had kept her on the walls where she made good with the guards. From there it was easy to earn the trust of everyone else. Even Philip.

Milton had always trusted her though. She had saved him out in the fields, had brought him home, had taken an interest in his research. He had never really cared for the company of others, but had become used to having her around; used to seeing her in the armchair in the corner each morning, reading a book; used to hearing her singing along with a song on the record, each day something else; used to her smiling at him from over a book as though she were telling him something that was only for him.

The sound of her laugh…

He missed it echoing through the warehouse when he had said something she found funny. He missed its subtle variations and the faces that came along with it. But there would be no more laughs, no more smiles or singing. Gracelyn was on holiday and only Lyn was filling her place.

Milton moved to his desk and sat down in the swivel chair. He opened the notebook to a fresh page, intent on writing something new in, but decided against it. He remembered something Gracelyn had once asked him.

_"Have you ever even read it?"_

Truth was, he hadn't. He had written all of this history down, people's personal stories, events, defining moments, and had never bothered to read any of it. He was just the scribe.

_"We can't know where we're heading until we know where we've come from."_

She was so clever sometimes, he thought. Being a history major it had made perfect sense to her for him and everyone else to read what was within his notebook. So he did now. He flipped to the start of the notebook and began with the first word and read to the last.

Or what he thought was the last…

He noticed a dog-eared page towards the end of the notebook. He flipped passed the empty pages until he found more words, scribbled in blue ink. It began with:

_My name is Gracelyn Eileen Luan. I was born July 5__th__, 1989 at 1:26 in the morning in Syracuse, New York to Patrick Thomas Luan and Abigael Marie Cavanaugh. I am the youngest of three children. I have two brothers; Liam and Kenneth._

Milton was surprised. He had never seen this before. He questioned when she had done it; when his notebook had ever been out of his hands. He remembered. That night when she had seen his lab for the first time she had asked to see it, to read it, and he had let her. He continued on:

_We were raised as army brats. We moved from New York to Oklahoma to Nevada to North Carolina and then finally Florida. My brothers both enlisted into the military when they were able. Liam became a Navy Seal and Kenneth a Marine. I, on the other hand, went to college. I got an education in Ancient Studies and minored in anthropology. I had planned on going back to school after I got my PhD to pursue an Associates of Science degree, but then… the plague broke out._

Milton read on for the length of her writings. By the end, he realized that she had been right. He had known nothing about her.

_"Why didn't you ask me?"_

_"I was busy with my research."_

She had been talking. All this time she had been telling him things about herself, her life, but he hadn't been listening. He was too _busy_ to listen.

Milton stood from his seat and walked out of his lab, leaving the notebook open on his desk. He marched, such an unusual feeling for him, towards her building and climbed the stairs. He saw her door before he had gotten to the landing and rapped three times in haste.

_What was he doing?_

He didn't know all of a sudden. He felt his nerves strike up as his breathing increased. He quickly turned from the door and headed back down the stairs nearly tripping over his own feet. He could hear the door unlock, creak open. He hurried down the last bit of staircase and hid off to the side in the shadows.

"Hello?" Gracelyn called and peeked out from her room. She opened the door wider. "Is someone there?"

Milton said nothing. He heard the soft padding of her feet on the wooden floor as she came to the top of the stairs. Milton hid off to the side at the ground floor, back flat against the wall.

"Hello?" Gracelyn called again as she looked around the hall.

"What's goin' on, Barbie Doll?" Milton knew that drawl; Merle. Milton looked across the hall and spotted a mirror. He could barely make out Gracelyn in it, standing at the railing of the stairs. She sighed and looked back at Merle, who stood in her doorway pompously. He leaned his left forearm against the frame of the door and stared at Gracelyn, looking her over from head to foot. "How come we haven't hooked up yet?"

"Because you're a chicken shit who can't handle a woman being on top." She replied with a smile.

"Who were you talkin' to?" Merle got them back on topic.

"I don't know." She replied and looked back over the railing of the stairs. "I thought I heard someone knocking on my door, but when I answered…"

"Ut-oh. Looks like someone's losin' it." Merle taunted and sauntered towards her. She turned back to look at him with an eyebrow raised and hands on her hips.

"I ain't lost nuttin'." She mocked in the most Southern-hick voice she could manage.

"Ya makin' fun of me, girl?" Merle narrowed his eyes and placed his hand and freed stump on the railing on either side of her, locking her to her place. He stared down at her, eyes narrowed. She narrowed her eyes and stared right back.

"What if I am?" She asked, unafraid of him. She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted a hip out to the side. She raised a hand and poked a finger into his pectoral muscle. "What are you going to do about it, redneck?"

They stared at one another for a long moment. Milton peeked his head out and looked up at the two carefully with expectant eyes. He was reminded of Philip and Gracelyn in the alley; his body holding her captive; how close their pelvises were.

Merle moved closer to Gracelyn; pelvis against pelvis. Their eyes never faltered.

'I'll tell ya what I'm gonna do." Merle threatened. "Barbie."

Milton did not, however, expect what happened next.

Merle suddenly wrapped his arm around Gracelyn and heaved her up over his shoulder. She gave a small joyful scream and allowed him to carry her.

"Merle!" She laughed heavily, over-tired. Merle placed his hand on Gracelyn's ass and gave a squeeze. She gave another scream and laughed. "Ah! Merle! Stop!"

"I'm gonna pull you ov'a my knee and smack that fine ass a yer's till that grin falls off yer face!" Merle promised playfully and gave her ass a smack. "Oh, yeah! Then we'll see who gets to be on top."

He carried her back into her room and closed the door with his foot.

Milton stepped out from his hiding and stared up the stairs at where they had just been moments before. He could hear Gracelyn laughing and giving small, playful screams. He could hear movement, scuffling and then more laughing from both of them.

He felt nervousness and anger well up inside of him, but also jealousy. He was a logical man, but jealousy seemed so… illogical. Especially, for someone like him.

He had adopted a small crush on the blonde woman who had once shared that laugh with him. He had imagined her coming to him late at night in his lab, swiveling his chair around to face her and straddling him. He imagined her hands over his body; starting in his hair, pulling it gently, him groaning and hissing as she tugged harder, her hands moving south slowly. He imagined them on his desk; him on top, ripping off her clothing like some kind of deviant with an unquenchable thirst. He imagined kissing her; kissing her breath away, kissing her neck, her shoulder, her collar bone. He imagined making love to her. Her body pressed firmly against his. His pelvis meeting hers in a moment after moment of pure bliss; moving in and out… in and out… in and out…

"_Oh Merle.._." Gracelyn's voice was soft, a purr. "_Don't stop_."

Milton swallowed hard and shut his eyes tightly, falling back against the wall. His heart beat wildly in his chest, hands clenched at his side. He opened his eyes, tears beginning to burn them and ran out of the door to the building. He raced back to his lab and locked the door, heaving and huffing.

He fell to his knees.

Tears raced down his cheeks and fell on the cement, creating small pools of dark grey. His hands remained on the door in tight fists as he hung his head. He gave a small, soft cry.

He opened his eyes and looked at his disgrace again. He was aroused. His erection pitched a very distinct tent in his pants, throbbing and aching.

Milton heaved another huff and then another, trying to get a hold of himself. His mind reeled back to Gracelyn and her moaning. He tried not to think about who was in the room with her, what he was doing to draw out such a sensual hum. He wanted so badly for it to be him.

He wanted to touch her...

_…everywhere…_

He wanted to make her call out his name…

_…again and again and again…_

He wanted to make her ask him not to stop...

_…to beg…_

He wanted her…

_…and it hurt…_

One of his hands slid down from the door and at on his knee. Slowly, it crept towards the bulge in his pants. With shaky hands he undid his belt and pulled down his zipper. He pushed his hand into the waistband of his boxers and then gripped his hardened penis. He imagined Gracelyn; her eyes, her lips, her body. He imagined her hand touching him, stroking him, pumping him… pleasuring him.

Milton gave a moan and shut his eyes, leaning his forehead against the hand that remained on the door. He gritted his teeth, breathing through them as he glided his hand faster. He tightened his hold and continued to pump. His body tightened up, the friction becoming too much.

Then, with the call of Gracelyn's name, he climaxed.

* * *

Again, I'm sorry. But hey, the hardest part for me was trying to decide whether Milton wore boxers or briefs. What do you think? Head to my page and vote.

Love you all!

- Winnie


	14. Chapter 13

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Thirteen**

Gracelyn felt unusually like herself today.

She rolled over and allowed her right hand to hang of the edge of the bed. It hit something.

"Watch what yer doin' Barbie." Merle groaned from where he lay on the floor. Gracelyn moved to the edge of the bed and peered down at him. He opened an eye and stared up at her, then cracked a smirk. "Don't you look hideous first thang in the mornin'."

Gracelyn grabbed her pillow and smacked him in the face with it. He grabbed hold of his and held it tightly to his chest. Gracelyn let go and sat up in bed, rolling her shoulder.

"Oh my God." She commented and touched her shoulder. "No pain."

"I told ya I'd fix it." Merle sat up and tossed the pillow back on her bed. "Not exactly what I thought I'd have you moanin' 'bout last night, but-"

Another pillow to the face.

"Shut up, horny toad." Gracelyn snapped and threw the covers off of her. She pulled herself to the end of the bed and stood up. She motioned to her body. "As if I'd give this up so easily."

"Psssh. Fuckin' tease." Merle scoffed and picked himself up from the floor. He wasn't angry with her or even put off. There was something about Gracelyn that Merle liked, genuinely liked, and made him almost respect her. "Go an git that ass in that shower. Yer on inventory today."

"You're evil." Gracelyn grabbed her clothes for the day from her dresser and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door.

"An make sure to git all the nooks and crannies!" He called after her. He laughed when he heard her growling this and that about him. He stretched his back out. He was so sick of sleeping on that damned floor, but he'd do it so long as she _needed_ him to.

Merle heard the water go on in the shower and took his cue to leave. He headed out of the building and walked down the street towards the wall.

"There he is!" Martinez spoke up first as Merle hurried to the top of the wall. "You hit it with Gracelyn again last night?"

"Oh, we hit it _all_ night long." Merle humped the air and made the boys laugh as though they were back in high school. Little did they know, no such thing had been happening for the two weeks that he had been sleeping on Gracelyn's floor.

"Merle!" A voice rang out, loud and strong. Merle looked at the street and spotted _him_ with the scientist at his side.

"Yes Gov'na?!" Merle called back, squinting against the sun in his eyes. Philip waved his hand, motioning for Merle to come to him.

"Someone's in trouble." Jacobsen taunted. Merle sent a hard stare that told him to shut his mouth and quick. He climbed down from the wall and marched like the good soldier he was to the beating of his general's drum.

"A helicopter was spotted a few miles away. Looked to be goin' down." Philip began with hands on his hips. Merle nodded his head slowly and clicked his tongue.

"Time for a run, Gov'na?" Merle knew exactly what Philip had been thinking. The man's lips curled into a smirk.

"Exactly." He replied.

"What's going on?" Gracelyn asked, sneaking up behind them all. The three men looked to her. She noticed their looks. She lingered on Milton before turning her attention to Philip. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothin's wrong. Just talkin' to Merle about the possibility of a run today." Philip explained with an all-too-cheerful smile. Gracelyn looked to Milton, lingering a moment too long, and then to Merle. Something didn't feel right.

"Why don't I go along?" She offered with a shrug of her shoulders. "I've only got inventory duty today and you all might need the extra shot."

"I think we'll manage." Merle spoke up first. Something in the way he stared at her made her even more suspicious.

"I'm the best you've got." She retorted.

"Now, now children, I know you and Merle have grown quite… _close_," Philip picked up a hand, palm out and gave a small laugh. Gracelyn and Merle looked to each other, Milton's eyes trailing from one of them to the other with a blank expression, "these last couple of weeks, but I promise I'll bring him back to you in one piece."

Gracelyn said nothing. She wasn't going to win this fight. So, she did the only thing she could. She nodded her head and let her eyes fall to the ground.

"Merle, get the boys ready. We leave as soon as possible." Philip ordered and Merle walked back to the wall, without a second glance Gracelyn's way. She watched him go and held herself together the best she could, feeling like he had left her with the devil. Philip turned his attention to Gracelyn and looked her over from head to foot.

"Oh, and by the way, Miss Lyn," Philip called her attention back. He licked his lips which were curled into a smirk, "You look rather nice today. You should wear a dress more often. Show off those _assets_ a yours."

Gracelyn looked away from him, giving him exactly what he wanted; discomfort, fear. He gave a laugh and walked away while shaking his head. Gracelyn lifted her eyes and glared daggers into his back. She looked to her right, expecting to find Milton, but there was only air. She looked around in search of him and spotted him on his way to his lab.

She quickly picked up her sandaled feet and ran after him, hair bouncing and swaying as she went. She caught up to him and walked beside him silently for a moment. She had planned out everything she was going to say to him, had practiced it in the bathroom mirror a hundred times, but now she wished she had practiced a hundred more.

"Milton," she began and glanced over at him, "I want to tell you that-"

"Don't bother." He interrupted her apology and headed into his lab. Gracelyn stopped and watched the door close with a click. Her face contorted in a mix of confusion and irritation. She stuttered quietly to herself a moment and then burst into the lab. Milton stood at a table across from her by the back wall. He was scribbling something down in a notebook.

"What the Hell was that?" She asked, not angrily, but put off a bit by his tone. He sounded… angry, actually angry. She had never heard him angry.

"What was what?" He asked from his spot, refusing to turn and look at her.

"That!" She exclaimed and pointed a finger at his back. "That tone. Are… are you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?" He asked, his tone turning sarcastic. "I don't know anything about you, Lyn. So how can I be mad?"

"I don't know; you tell me. You're the one that's mad after all." She quipped and then waited. He said nothing. He only continued to write. Slowly it hit her. "You really **are** mad."

"No, not mad."

"The what?"

"Busy. Don't you have inventory to do?"

"Is that your excuse for **everything**?" She emphasized scornfully. "You're_ busy_?"

Milton snapped and ceased his writing. His shoulders grew taut as he leaned over the desk and the notebook.

"You're mad. Just admit it and quit giving me bullshit excuses." She rushed out with.

"Of course I'm mad!" He stood straighter and squeezed his eyes shut, still not turning to look at her.

"Why? Because I said that you didn't trust me?" She asked and took a step closer. Was Milton really this dramatic? Could he have gotten so mad over something like that? No. It had to be something else. "Is it because I've been ignoring you?"

He again said nothing and went back to writing. Gracelyn watched him for a moment and then shook her head.

"How can I apologize if you won't tell me what I did wrong?"

"Why don't you go find Merle?" Milton spoke up in a calm voice. Secretly he was seething, but not at her. It was with himself. He began to write a little harder. "I'm sure he can find ways to occupy your time instead of **wasting** mine."

"What?"

"Why don't you just run back to the wall? I'm sure they could all use the great protector Lyn right now."

"Why are you being so mean?"

"The truth hurts or so I've been told." He stopped writing and sighed slowly, releasing his frustration. He didn't understand where all this anger had come from.

"Milton, I'm sorry. Whatever it was: I'm sorry. Things just keep happening and I keep ending up in a bad place. I've taken out my anger on you and that was wrong. It wasn't ever you I was angry with." She apologized for everything she could think of. Milton once again said nothing. He acted as though she weren't even in the same room; didn't exist. She didn't like the tone he had taken with her, but didn't like being ignored by him even more. "Please Milton. I'm sorry."

Milton froze. He had expected her to get angry with him and leave. That was the usual response she had given him when things didn't go her way or when it all became too much. She yelled at him, ignored him and ran away.

"Please look at me." She begged softly. Her voice sounded far away and defeated. Milton did nothing. He was at war within himself. He wanted to turn around. He wanted things to just go back to normal, but how could they? He had lied to her. She had distrusted him, yelled at him, run away from him. Despite the fact that every time he thought about her, he saw her and Merle, they just couldn't be friends.

"You're one of the only friends I have around here, Milton. Despite everyone saying they forgive me, even though I did nothing wrong, they treat me like I'm the black sheep they have to try and get along with." Gracelyn shook her head and bit her bottom lip. Her eyes drifted to the chair in the corner diagonal to her. Milton looked back at her slowly. Her eyes drifted away from the chair to the ground. When she looked to him he saw tears. "Please Milton… I've already lost my brothers… please don't tell me that I've lost you now too."

She looked heartbroken. Tears rolled down her flushed cheeks slowly and fell from her jaw line. She waited for him, for his answer.

He wanted to say yes, to make her go away so that his life could return to normal. His life had been quiet. He was left alone to do his research in peace. People paid him no mind and he liked it that way. Then she had ruined it all with her singing and questioning and smiling. She had ruined it by coming into his life.

But there was another part of him, one that, for some reason, didn't want that quiet, lonely life anymore; a part of him that wanted the smiling and the singing, the jokes and the laughs. There was a part of him that couldn't imagine ever going back to that time or a reality where Gracelyn had never come into his life. She was a possibility; a hope that he had never seen coming.

"No," he replied gently and looked back and forth between her eyes, "you haven't lost me, Gracelyn."

Gracelyn smiled and raced at him. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and cried softly into the crook. She closed her eyes and tightened her hold on him.

Milton could only concentrate on the fact that her body was pressed firmly against his own. Her breasts thrust against his chest; her pelvis against his; her face so close that all he would have to do was turn his head and his lips would be on hers.

"Milton," her voice startled him and brought him back to reality where his face was beginning to flush, "you can hug me back, you know. You won't break me. I swear."

Milton didn't know what to do. He swallowed hard and raised his arms. Awkwardly he placed his hands on her waist.

"That's not a hug, science boy." Gracelyn gave a small laugh and removed her arms from his neck. She took his hands in her own; so soft and gentle; so small compared to his. She pulled them behind her back as far as she could and let go. Then she returned her arms to his neck, one hand lying at the base of his neck. "Wrap them around me, Milton."

Milton followed her instructions and carefully wrapped his arms around her back. He felt warmth spread through him. It wasn't heat, but something else that he was unaccustomed to. He had resigned his 'intimate moment' the night before in the lab to pure cardinal lust; nothing more. He was a man after all and even the nicest, shyest of men still had _needs_, but this feeling pushed all of that away. It made him doubt his theory. He knew what it was, but he wasn't ready to admit it to himself yet.

"Can I tell you something, Milton?" Gracelyn spoke up delicately. She stared over Milton's shoulder at the model of Woodbury. Milton didn't like the tone her voice took. It was almost as though she were afraid of what she had to say.

"Of course." He replied and knitted his eyebrows together, waiting for whatever it was she needed to say.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone, not even Philip, what I'm going to say."

"What?" Milton pulled back and looked down at her. What on earth could it be that she wanted to say that she was requesting his silence?

"I need you to promise me." She pulled him back to her and rested her hand at the base of his neck again, gripping his shirt tightly. "Promise."

"I-I can't." He felt as though he was being pulled in two separate directions. He felt that if he agreed to her demands, then he was becoming part of something much bigger; a war, a war that he would sooner or later be forced to choose sides on.

"Milton, please." She begged as she felt new tears sting her eyes. They sat waiting to spill over and blurred her vision. "Please, promise me."

"…I promise." He agreed after a moment. He had no idea what he was getting himself into, but something in her voice had forced it out of him.

"I'm scared." She admitted after a long pause. Milton's eyebrows became knitted again in bewilderment. That was not what he expected.

"We're all scared. After everything you and your brothers saw out there," Milton started as Gracelyn pulled back from him, shaking her head, "it would be hard not to be."

"I'm not scared of the biters." She spoke through gritted teeth, but her voice didn't harbor anger. It was fear; pure fear. She was quickly becoming more perplexing by the minute.

"If not the biters, then what are you afraid of?" He asked, becoming slightly worried. He didn't like where this was going. Something in her eyes, her face, something told him he had just stepped into a mine field without a map.

Gracelyn paused and stared up at him. His arms were still around her, holding her loosely to him. She was thankful for it. She didn't want him to let go just yet. She needed all the encouragement she could get.

"I'm afraid of the Governor." She confessed, searching his eyes for any sign that he was going to betray her trust. She found none. She looked downwards between them and suddenly felt an extreme guilt wash over her. How could she think that Milton didn't trust her? How could she have acted so cruelly to him?

"Why?" Milton turned his head slightly and narrowed his eyes in question. Gracelyn gave a small, dejected laugh.

"…I think he may have killed my brothers." The words left a bitter taste in her mouth. Milton's mind jammed stopped. He couldn't deny that the thought had never crossed his mind.

"What makes you think that?"

"At least your reaction was better than Merle's." She commented. Milton's arms fell from her and to his side.

"You told Merle?" He nearly demanded the answer. Gracelyn nodded, confused by this new reaction. "And what did he say?"

"He said that he wouldn't put it past him." She replied honestly. She didn't like the look on Milton's face. "Milton, is he right?"

Milton said nothing. Gracelyn pulled back from Milton, hands falling from his shoulders. She took a step back to stare at him fully.

"Milton," she began. He could hear the finality in her voice. If he didn't answer her, he would lose her forever. "…did the Governor kill my brothers?"

"I don't know." His voice was so soft that Gracelyn almost believed her mind had made up what she wanted to hear.

"Do you think he's capable?" She turned around with another question.

"Why are you asking me this?" He stared at her with widened eyes and a dismal expression on his face. Gracelyn moved closer and took his right hand with her left.

"You're the closest to him." She answered and looked between his eyes. She gave his hand a squeeze. "Is he capable?"

"…Philip's capable of a lot of things." Milton breathed out. He was still trying to keep his balance on the fence. He could tell she still doubted him. He doubted himself. The idea that Philip killed her brothers was so… probable. It made his skin crawl.

"Milton," Gracelyn began again and placed her right hand against his cheek. She stared into his eyes and licked her lips, "Did Philip kill my brothers?"

Milton's expression changed before her eyes. It was a look of distress and remorse. She could tell now that he was being honest.

"I don't know." His answer never changed.


	15. Chapter 14

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Fourteen**

The sun had begun to sink in the sky when Gracelyn begun her trek back to Milton's lab. She had needed to get away before. She had needed air. She had needed to think. Milton had encouraged her to go for a walk, to really** consider** what it was she was accusing Philip of. She could tell he was hesitant towards the idea, but also had his suspicions now.

Gracelyn walked the sidewalk. She smiled at those she passed. Some were racking the freshly mowed grass. Others were tending the hedges and the flowers. A breeze blew passed her and caught the ends of her dress, blowing it back. She pushed her hair behind her ears and squinted against the low evening sun.

Her mind once again relived earlier in the day when Milton told her he didn't know what the Governor was capable of, that he didn't know if Philip had anything to do with her brothers' disappearance. A heavy weight had settled in the pit of her stomach and was churning. It made her skin itch and crawl. She didn't want to believe it. She wished that she could trust Philip the way that everyone else in the town seemed to. She wished she could allow the illusion of Woodbury to pass over her, consume her, but there was just _something_ wrong. Something wrong about Woodbury, about the illusion, about the Governor; something he was hiding from everyone, even Milton.

Gracelyn smiled and waved at person after person. She hoped that she could return to her old self; the self without the rifle, without the scowl; the Lyn that these people had welcomed with open arms when she and her brothers had returned their dear scientist. She brushed her hair out of her face again and sighed frustrated with it. It was getting too long for her. It was nearing the middle of her back. At night when she slept, it rubbed against her skin uncomfortably and woke her up, growling. She needed it cut, but there were no hairstylists in town and she didn't trust just anyone with cutting her hair.

Gracelyn stepped into the alley. Her sandals ground the pebbles into the broken step stones laid about as a path. She came to the familiar door.

"Oh, my little science boy!" She called out as she opened the door to the lab. She walked inside and came to a halt. He eyes landed on the man behind a small metal table with wheels wearing in a white tank and unbuttoned button up shirt. Her face brightened. "Merle! You're back!"

She ran at Merle with a smile and wrapped her arms around his middle, hugging him tightly. Secretly, somewhere inside, she had believed that this morning had been the last time she would ever see him again; that he would end up _missing _just like her brothers.

"When did you get back?" She asked and pulled away from him. Her smile never faltered. He looked down at her placing his _good_ hand on his hip.

"Little bit ago." He replied and clicked his tongue. She could see that he was lying. He was good, but he had allowed her to see a different side of him the nights he spent on her floor, guarding her from the things that went bump in the night.

"I didn't see you guys come in." She commented and knitted her eyebrows together. "I waited on the wall for a couple of hours even."

"That would be because they snuck in through the back." Gracelyn looked over at Milton who sat at his desk. She narrowed her eyes at his words and looked back at Merle. She arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest like a demanding mother hen.

"Why?" She asked and moved to Milton. He lifted his head, glasses sliding down to the tip of his nose as the lamp on the desk cast shadows across his face and bounced off the lenses of his glasses.

"Why don't you ask him?" He replied and pointed a pencil eraser at Merle. Gracelyn nodded her head in agreement and looked to Merle, waiting for an answer.

"Were you sneaking around on me, Dixon?" She queried playfully and then placed her hands on her hips. Merle gave a short laugh and reached into the pocket of his shirt, pulling forth a pack of cigarettes.

"Course not Barbie Doll." He stuck a cancer stick in his mouth and let it dangle from his lips as he searched his pockets for a lighter. "You know I'd never run 'round behind your back."

"Uh-huh." She arched an eyebrow at him and poised her face to appear distrustful. Milton stood up from his desk and walked up to Merle. He pulled from Merle's lips the cigarette with black medical gloves.

"Hey!" Merle snapped as Milton moved away.

"You can't smoke in here." He retorted and tossed the cigarette away. Merle growled and pulled out a new cigarette. Gracelyn laughed and smiled at Milton, then noticed his attire.

"I like the shirt." She spoke through her laugh and motioned to her own chest with a finger. Beneath the short-sleeved, pale blue vertically stripped button up was a sea-foam green t-shirt. She couldn't make out the design, but she loved the color. "My bedroom was that color in high school."

She suddenly let out a small shriek, jumping as the door came crashing open and hit the stone wall almost violently.

"Did you finish your homework?" Philip burst in and looked around the room at them all while the door closed with a distinct click.

"Unfortunately, the dog's eating it already." Milton replied and walked back to his desk, which was cleared of his papers and books today, but replaced by beakers, Bunsen burners and other such science instruments.

"What the Hell you call me?!" Merle snapped and pulled the unlit cigarette from his lips. He made to charge at Milton, but Gracelyn stepped in his path and placed a hand on his chest.

"Hey, where are we?" Philip barked, stopping Merle from pushing Gracelyn aside to get to Milton. Merle looked down towards the ground like a beaten old dog. "Back in the school yard? You wanna take his lunch money too?"

"Sorry Gov'na." Merle apologized, keeping his eyes anywhere but on his master.

"Maybe I've wasted my time with you." Philip took a step closer, watching Merle carefully and almost ignoring Gracelyn's presence in the room altogether. "Maybe you haven't learned anything at all."

"He was trying to smoke in here." Milton piped up gently from where he sat at his desk.

"And you expected better?" Philip glanced at Milton. "Keep pokin' the bear and you're bound to get mauled. Rememba that."

Milton looked down at the gadgets on his desk. Suddenly, Gracelyn didn't like how the Governor was treating these two men; the only two people she could call friends in the whole damned town.

"Milton was only doing it because I have asthma and Merle didn't know. So, don't get mad at them." She piped up. The look Philip gave her made her almost regret taking her small stance against him; almost.

"Then who should I be mad at?" He asked and took a step closer to her.

"Why are you mad?" She retorted, trying not to let his stare make her flinch. "You don't care about Merle and Milton arguing. They do it so often we've all become accustomed to hearing it."

"Tell me about the girl." Philip asked, his eyes never leaving Gracelyn. She knew that he was challenging her. If she looked away, then he would win dominance over her. She knew this game from her brothers. She could never win with Liam.

"What girl?" She asked, keeping her eyes locked with his. She did, however, win when it came to Kenneth.

"Name's Andrea." Merle piped up after a moment.

"What, you know her?" Milton asked from his desk, lifting his head up from his work. Gracelyn couldn't restrain herself. She looked from Merle to Milton with confusion, breaking her stare from Philip. He had won.

"She from that group in Atlanta?" Philip's voice changed. He looked to Merle with almost compassion in his eyes. Gracelyn was confused. Who were they talking about? Who was Andrea? Why were they talking about her?

"Yeah, the same ones that left me on the roof and forced me to mutilate myself." Merle answered automatically. Gracelyn's ears caught something; a soft beeping. She turned her head and saw two operating tables with something lying on them beneath green blankets.

Slowly, she moved to them.

Milton quickly stood up from his seat and moved to the tables before she could get there. She looked up at him. He was a good three inches taller than her, but her stare made him shrink. She turned her head slightly and gave him a warning look. His eyes glanced to Philip and then back at her. He shook his head. Gracelyn didn't understand the message and her expression moved to confusion as the other two continued to talk.

"Show me something!" Philip's voice exclaimed suddenly. Gracelyn spun around in time to meet Merle's glance as he walked out of the laboratory. She made to walk after him, but Philip stopped her. "No, I think you ought to see this Miss Lyn. 'specially since you want to be more involved in the secret happenin's of this place."

Gracelyn's gaze drifted to Milton, who shared her concern. Bit by bit she moved closer to Milton's side on the opposite end of the operating tables than Philip.

"Go on then." Philip ordered and tossed a hand towards the tables. "Show me somethin'."

Milton pulled off his gloves and threw them on the table before him. He pulled back one of the green blankets and revealed a body. Gracelyn felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of a headless, armless body.

"What do you make of it?"

"Uh, pretty impressive; really. Major kudos for ingenuity." He began. His stutter was all but non-existent. "Take away their arms so they can't grab you. Take away their jaws so they can't bite you."

Milton moved to another table Gracelyn hadn't spotted yet. Her eyes grew wide and she froze in her place.

"Take away their ability to eat and they lose interest in doing so." He motioned haphazardly to the two heads that sat on the table. Gracelyn stared at them, watching them as their eyes moved about in their sockets. "They're no longer in attack mode. We can be in their presence without fear. They become… docile, in a sense."

"Lurkers…" Philip murmured as he moved closer to the table with curiosity.

"Mmm, docile." Milton tried to correct him, but the stare Philip sent back made him think otherwise. "Or lurkers. You know, whatever you like."

"Why would you keep them like that?" Gracelyn asked, eyes fixed on one of the heads. The biter's eyes stared right back at her, dead and deformed.

"Ah," Milton looked down at the heads, "repellant."

"Camouflage." Philip breathed out in fascination. He moved ever closer and lifted two fingers to the biter, whose eyes were transfixed on Gracelyn. "Walk with a biter; they think you're a biter. Low profile: that's smart."

He slowly placed two fingers inside of the biter's half removed mouth, touching the red, moist bits. Gracelyn could hear the _squish _and the _squash _as he touched the tissue. She suddenly gagged and clapped a hand over her mouth, feeling bile rise in her esophagus.

"Gracelyn? Are you alright?" Milton moved to her, but she lifted her free hand with the palm out to keep him at bay. She turned her head and shut her eyes tightly as she gagged again, thinking about what Philip had just done. She didn't know why it bothered her so much. She had seen worse. Or maybe she hadn't. Seeing a living human opening, freely place themselves so close to a biter's mouth made her ill, even though they had no jaw or teeth to bite with.

"They're so thin. If… if they're not eating, why don't they starve?" Philip had paid no mind to Gracelyn's reaction. He placed his hands on the edge of the table and stared down at the walkers.

"They are. Slowly, much slower than you or I, but they are." Milton explained with hands on his hips, shirt tucked neatly into the waist of his pants. Gracelyn opened her eyes and stared at the wall across from her. She tried not to look anywhere near the biters for fear of actually throwing up her stomach contents.

"Feels like we're tryin' to impose logic on the cows." Philip scoffed and pushed himself away from the table.

"But that's not such a bad thing." Milton commented and moved to a table behind him.

"No, but where does that get us?" Philip looked at the biters as he moved away towards his Woodbury model. "Just more questions and no answers."

"Not yet." Milton looked over at him and then picked up a pitcher on the table before him. He pulled a glass closer to him and poured the yellow brown liquid into it. He moved to Gracelyn and held the glass out to her. In a soft voice he spoke, "It'll help settle your stomach."

She didn't say anything, but nodded and took the glass. She sipped the tea slowly. It was bitter and it left a taste she couldn't identify in her mouth. Milton moved back to the table and took a new glass in his hand, pouring out more tea.

"If I could talk to those women…" Milton prompted and set down the pitcher again.

"No, Merle is handling that." Philip replied as he fixed the small fence around the Woodbury model. Milton sighed; almost frustrated by the answer he was given.

"I don't want to question your judgment, Governor," Milton began and walked to the model with the cup of tea in hand. Philip's lips curled into a smirk.

"Sure you do. That's why I need ya." He looked back at Milton and spotted the cup in his hand. "That and your tea."

Milton handed him the glass.

"With all due respect, letting Merle talk to those women unsupervised is a mistake." He argued gently. Gracelyn took a sip of her tea and pulled her lips tightly against her teeth in resentment to the acrid taste. "Now you've always said, every tool kit needs a hammer, but do you really think a hammer is the right tool for that job?"

Philip said nothing and took a gulp of the tea.

"How're you feelin' Miss Lyn?" He asked and finally looked over at her. She nodded her head and took another sip of the tea. This time, it almost came back out. She slammed the cup down on the table with the biter's body and cupped a hand over her mouth, coughing. "I hope you ain't caught a bug. We need you up on that wall."

Philip finished his tea in another two gulps and handed the cup to Milton. He headed towards the door and left the two alone with the mutilated biters. Gracelyn tried to cover up her coughing, feeling the tea having taken the wrong pipe down.

"Is that the same thing your mother used to do? When you were a child?" Milton asked gently as he moved back to the pitcher. He set the glass down and then took a hesitant step closer to Gracelyn. Gracelyn nodded, feeling the tickle in her throat still. She tried to ask him how he knew, but she couldn't get the words out. "I read my notebook. I… I saw what you had written in."

Gracelyn cleared her throat and looked over at him, tears in the corners of her eyes. She wiped them away and sniffled, choking having forced them out of her.

"You were right." He announced and fidgeted a moment with his hands.

"About what?" She placed a hand to her throat and rubbed.

"About not really knowing you."

It took her back a little by surprise. She didn't remember saying something as such to him, but then again when she's truly angry she says a lot of things she doesn't remember later.

"Milton," she began and let her hand fall from her neck, "when I said that I was really angry and kind of feeling like the odd man out. I didn't mean-"

"I wasn't looking to have you apologize. In fact, I believe I owe you the apology." He but in quickly and took a step closer. "I-I simply meant that you were right in what you said. I didn't really know anything about you. All those weeks, I never really heard what you were saying when you spoke to me because I had my nose buried in my work. I'm sorry for my part in making you feel like 'the odd man out'. I never meant for that to happen."

Gracelyn's lips became a tender smile. She moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck loosely. She shut her eyes and sighed into the collar of his shirt, breathing in the scent of rubber and bleach; typical scientist. Milton had frozen in his spot. This was the second hug in one day from this woman. He was unused to the physical contact from another human being. It was strange, alien, but also… gratifying.

Slowly and carefully, he wrapped his arms around her waist. He placed one hand over the other on her back, unsure of where to put them otherwise. He lowered his chin to her shoulder and caught the scent lurking in her hair. It was delicate and feminine. It smelled like the faint scent of cherry blossom in a spring breeze.

"You were the only one who saw me, Milton. When everyone else turned their back on me, you were there." Gracelyn's voice was soft and meaningful. "I know who my true friends are in this town now, Milton, and I'm glad that I can count you among them."

She pulled back from him and cupped his cheek in her hand. She placed a tender kiss to his other cheek and then pulled away from his arms, heading to the door. She opened it, allowing the last light of day to creep inside and then looked back at Milton.

"I'm really glad I met you." She smiled at him and then left the lab, heading back to her room for the night. She quickly changed into a pair of green tight shorts and a tank and jumped onto her bed. Her face hit the pillow and she was out, lying on her stomach with her hair mussed and hand dangling off the side of the bed.

She never even heard the door open.


	16. Chapter 15

I just want to say thank you to all my loyal readers. You guys make it easy to work through these chapters as quick as I have been.

- Winnie

* * *

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Fifteen**

Gracelyn rolled over in her bed. Her eyes creaked open to stare at the simple, plain white wall of her room with blurry vision. She stared at it long and hard for a while before looking to the nightstand. She always questioned why the people in Woodbury bothered with clocks. It wasn't like there were _appointments_ to keep up with anymore. She rolled her eyes and closed them a moment.

Her eyes opened again and drifted to the window by the nightstand. It was a poor place for it. The one closer to the bedroom door on the other side of the bed made more sense. This one was in a corner, hidden partially by the bed and the second nightstand. The sun was blaring through the glass like some kind of laser directed solely at a single spot on the old wooden floor. She watched the floor a moment, wondering if it would catch fire.

Gracelyn blinked several times to relieve her eyes of sleep, but was fighting a losing battle. She was so tired and she didn't understand why. Her eyes slowly drifted closed again, lids heavy and aching. She was lost in the state between waking and sleeping, where you couldn't tell the difference between what was a dream and what was real.

Something warm and firm pressed up against her back. Something else snuggled into her hair, warm hair blowing against her neck. Another thing snaked its way across her waist, holding her tightly to the thing behind her. She snuggled into the warmth instinctively, unaware that this was not a dream. Another something sneaked beneath her to wrap around her waist from the other direction. This thing shifted after a moment. The object over her waist moved below her breasts and then came to rest on her right breast, the closet to the mattress. It cupped her breast and almost began kneading it. It found her nipple and twisted it just right, sending a bolt of pleasure through her.

"_That's right_… I know just how to turn you on." A voice breathed heavily in her ear. Warm moist air fell upon her neck, making goose bumps appear. "Let me make you moan right this time."

Her eyes shot open and locked on the wall. She looked down, the best she could, to her chest and spotted fingers moving in and out beneath the covers. The left portion of her upper lip began to twitch with anger.

"**Merle**." Her voice dripped with venom. His right arm, which was unsheathed from its metal casing, wrapped tighter around her beneath her breasts, holding her to her place against him. "Let go."

"Oh come on, Barbie Doll." Merle purred in her ear as his hand continued to knead her breast. Slowly it moved to the other and continued its ministrations. "You liked it just fine a minute ago. How come yer so tense now?"

"Get **off**." She growled lowly through gritted teeth.

"I intend to." His voice held a laugh, deep and heavy. His hand moved south. It trailed between her breasts and to her abdomen. "Thank God you ain't no stick: can't stand feelin' a woman's ribs like she ain't eaten in a year."

"_Merle_." Gracelyn's voice threatened him to back off, but she couldn't help but give a small laugh.

"Real women have curves in all the right places." Merle's hand drifted to her pelvis and his fingers dragged themselves beneath her tank top, feeling her skin. "Mhm. You're a real woman."

"Get the fuck off. Now." She bit out.

"Get off? But Barbie Doll, I ain't even got _on_ ya yet." Merle gave a low chuckle and quickly flipped her onto her back. He hovered, straddling her legs to hold them tightly together so she couldn't get at his most sensitive bits with a knee. He held her wrists above her head with one hand and smirked down at her. "Now I'm **on** you."

"Get off." She repeated, trying to keep a smile from her lips.

"Oh don't you worry. I will _get off_ in a minute." Merle's lips curled into a devilish smirk. "First, I think we need some foreplay. Don't you?"

A knock came from the door.

"Ocupado amigo!" Merle called, not caring who might be behind the door. He looked back down at Gracelyn with a wide grin and licked his lips. "Mhm. I wonder how those lips a yers taste."

"Do it and I'll castrate you." She smiled sardonically at him with hard eyes.

"Now, now," Merle breathed out with a goodhearted laugh. Another knock came from the door. This time they were harder, more intent behind them. "Are you deaf?! I said occupied!"

"I know it is. That's why I'm here. I need to speak with Gracelyn." Milton replied, voice muffled slightly by the wooden door. Gracelyn turned her head and looked at the door, eyes gone wide.

"Well, now," Merle's voice worried Gracelyn a bit. She knew he was joking around, but how far would he go? Merle turned her face to look at him with his stump. "What would Mildred think if he caught us right now? 'specially in our… _compromisin'_ position."

"Merle… **DON'T**." She warned slowly. She didn't want Milton seeing them like this. It had taken her forever to explain that Merle was sleeping on the floor. Not in the bed: on the floor. She hadn't even gotten to tell him why Merle was sleeping in her room in the first place even. This would ruin everything. "Please don't."

"Aw, but Barbie." Merle complained, enjoying every second. "Are you worried he'll get mad? Think he'll start stutterin' and run away like a mouse? Or will he be… _jealous_?"

Something in Merle's voice surprised her. She stared up at him, hard stare turning perplexed. He'd be uncomfortable, nervous, but jealous? Why would Milton be jealous of all things?

"Milton doesn't get jealous." She replied as Milton knocked on the door again. Merle's face lit up with something he knew about the situation. Could she really be that clueless?

"Oh-ho, is that right?" Merle laughed as Milton knocked again. "Hold yer horses, Mildred!"

"I need to talk to Gracelyn."

"It's gonna have to wait a minute!" Merle looked back down at Gracelyn. "Come now, Barbie. With the looks that boy gives you… the way he stares at you when yer walkin' down the street; how he lifts his eyes over his glasses when he sits at his desk. My, my… I'd say our little scientist's fancies the purdy Miss Lyn."

Merle laughed. It was his mischievous laugh. The one he gave when he knew he was pushing your buttons. Gracelyn's face flushed, however, despite her efforts to keep calm.

"Maybe he'll even be aroused: the queer fuck. Why don't we let him in? See what he'll say." Merle's lips came close to her ear. "Think he'll want ta watch?"

Merle moved one of his knees between her legs.

"Merle, knock it off." She growled lowly. She was over this little game. He said nothing for a moment as he situated himself between her legs.

"Seenin' you beneath me… my pelvis rubbin' 'gainst yers; grindin'." He ground his pelvis into hers, eliciting a snarl that came out like a groan. She would be lying if it all didn't arouse her. She couldn't remember the last time she had gone one-on-one between the sheets. She could feel her nether regions twitch and ache. "Yer face is turnin' red, Barbie Doll. Yer breathin' so heavy... You like it, don't cha?"

Merle's face lit up.

"Well, I'll be damned. You little freak." He laughed and examined her face. "I bet yer boy ain't never been with a woman. What you think, Barbie? Think he even knows what to do with one? How to touch them? How to _please_ them?"

He ground his pelvis into hers again. She snapped.

"Get off of me, Merle!" She shouted and tried to pull her wrists free. In a flash the door to the room opened. Milton's eyes grew wide and his mouth sat agape. "Get him off of me!"

Gracelyn struggled against Merle as Milton's face turned beat red. He quickly turned around and stared out the open door into the hallway.

"I uh..." He started and fidgeted with his hands before him, swallowing hard. He placed two fingers into the collar of his shirt and tugged on it. It hadn't been so tight a moment ago, but now it felt as though it would choke the life out of him. "I-is this a… b-bad time?"

"Milton! Get this goddamn hick off of me!" Gracelyn bit out, staring up at Merle. She thrashed against him, legs crashing down upon the back of his calves. "I've had enough! Merle! Get the fuck off!"

She tried to pull her hands free again. Merle was strong like Philip, but unlike the man they all called Governor, Merle's hold was kinder. He was only playing with her. Philip had been dead serious.

"Get off? Now why would I wanna to do that? 'specially since I just climbed on ya." Merle's voice was low, trying to project lust. "I want the _whole_ ride. You was likin' it before Mildred barged in. Groanin', achin' for my touch."

"People are going to hear you." Milton announced nervously and quickly shut the door. He turned around and stared at the sight again. He felt his jaw clench, an almost protective feeling swell up inside of him at the sight of Merle between Gracelyn's legs. He could see their pelvises firmly pressed together. It reminded him of Philip. It reminded him of the night he ran from Gracelyn's building.

"Oh look. He is a queer fuck." Merle laughed as he examined Milton's stance. Milton's hands were in tight fists at his sides, eyes fixed on the connection between the two in bed. "I think we've aroused poindexter's manly urges. Didn't know you had any! Wishin' you was in my spot, Mildred?"

"Get off of her, Merle." Milton's voice was almost calm, but shook with each word.

"Oh, look who's grown a pair." Merle laughed and looked down at Gracelyn. "Knight in shinin' armor come to the damsel's aid. Plannin' on protectin' her honor, Milton?"

"Merle," Gracelyn's voice was low and steady. "**Off**."

"Well, I guess she's all yours, four-eyes, if you think you're up for it." Merle sat up and lifted his hand from Gracelyn's wrists. He then climbed off of her and headed towards the door, tucking in his white tank top. "Just rememba to be gentle. Delicate _flowers_ need delicate _care_ when tendin' to. You can't just go **pounded** them into the ground. You gotta take your time and go nice and slow."

Gracelyn took the pillow beneath her head and chucked it at Merle. He ducked and begun to cackle as he walked out of the room. His laughter followed all the way down the stairs.

"You fucking idiot!" Gracelyn shouted after him and sat up in her bed. Milton noticed her hair was mussed in all sort of directions and her make-up was smudged beneath her eyes. He briefly wondered why she bothered with make-up, but then decided not to voice the question. He scanned her face again and landed on her eyes.

Her eyes…

They looked red and tears were starting to well up in the. He quickly shut the door to the room once again. He moved closer to the bed, but before he could do anything Gracelyn picked herself up from the bed and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

He decided to leave it alone.

"How are you feeling today?" Milton called from the bedroom and fidgeted a bit. Even though Merle was gone the image was burned into his mind. It was burned into Gracelyn's too. Gracelyn pulled a tissue from the back of the toilet and ran it beneath her eye, trying to fix her make-up as tears rolled down her cheeks. She sniffled and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"I'm alright. I think your nasty tea helped." She replied and quickly brushed her hair. She placed her hands on the edge of the counter and stared at herself in the mirror. She was ashamed of herself. Merle had been right.

She had liked it; the feeling of being caught in such a position; Milton bursting into the room and seeing them that way. It was… erotic.

Gracelyn ran the water in the sink as a small cry escaped her lips. Who was this girl she had become? Never would she have liked something like that. She wiped her face clear of smudged make-up and tears before turning the water off.

Gracelyn came out from the bathroom and walked to her dresser. She stared at Milton through the mirror, who glanced at her every now and again. She caught his stare and he quickly looked away to the window. She, however, didn't turn away. She noticed that he was dressed in a white suit and how antsy he was suddenly. It brought a question to mind; one that never would have been there had Merle kept his mouth shut.

Did Milton have a crush on her? Or was he just the jumpy, awkward nerd that had most likely never been around many women in his life? She had met many men like him, had gone to school with them, they were all peculiar when it came to the opposite sex; fidgety, uncomfortable, tongue-tied.

"Why are you so dressed up?" She asked as she looked down at the drawer she was rummaging through. She pulled out a pair of running shorts and then closed the drawer, opening a new one.

"We have guests. Remember?" He asked and stared down at her through his glasses. Gracelyn froze and looked up at him, t-shirt in hand. She had forgotten all about Andrea, the woman the boys had been talking about yesterday in the lab.

"Guests as in more than one? I thought it was only Andrea." She closed the dresser and headed back into the bathroom to change.

"She and another woman came back with Merle and Philip. They've been living in the woods for several months." Milton explained and looked towards the bathroom. Gracelyn wasn't one to forget too many things, especially closing the bathroom door, but she had. Milton could see through the door crack as Gracelyn pulled off her pajamas, leaving her in panties and a bra. He felt his breath catch in his throat and swallowed hard to relieve it.

"And?" Gracelyn asked as she pulled on her running shorts. Milton looked away from the door and to the window again, trying to find his composure.

"Those biters, the ones I had in the lab, were theirs. They had them chained by the throat like some kind of pet."

"B-e-a-utiful." Gracelyn was quickly becoming sardonic. She pulled on the t-shirt and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She needed to run. She needed to let off some steam.

"When we meet them today I'm-"

"No." She suddenly shook her head as she walked out of the bathroom. She grabbed the pair of socks sitting on her dresser and moved to the edge of her bed. "You have fun with that. Today is my day off. It's already started off on a horrible foot and I just want some peace and quiet."

"Yes _Merle_." He spoke with what Gracelyn took for disdain. His eyebrows knitted together in question. "I thought you said he sleeps on the floor."

"He does." Gracelyn finished with her socks and grabbed one of her shoes from the floor. She began to untie it. "I don't know what the Hell he was doing in my bed, but he's going to pay."

"Why does he sleep in here?" There it was: the question. Gracelyn set her shoe down in her lap and closed her eyes, sighing heavily.

"Because," she started and licked her lips that had suddenly become dry, "because I'm afraid to sleep alone."

The admittance was harder than she had expected. She picked up her shoe again and finished with the knot. She pulled her foot up and slipped the shoe on, beginning to tie it back up.

"If I may ask, why?" Milton seemed apprehensive. Whether it was for her benefit or his: she wasn't sure.

"My brothers are gone and everyone believes they killed those two men. I'm a sitting duck." She pulled her other shoe to her and struggled to release the knot. "God forbid they decide to turn into a lynch mob…"

"Has anyone threatened you?"

Gracelyn looked to Milton at this. She could hear the concern in his voice and saw it on his face. She didn't know what to say to him. She suddenly felt regretful for telling Milton all her problems. It wasn't fair to him. These were his people, his friends, who she talked about so badly. All this time, she had been forcing him to choose: her or Woodbury. That wasn't fair.

"Everything's fine." She replied with the best smile she could muster. Milton nodded his head and moved towards her door, gripping the doorknob. He opened the door and looked back at her again.

"You're sure?" He asked again. Something about the way she stared at him, something in her smile, made him question her words.

"Yeah," she forced the smile wider, "I'm fine. Everything's fine. No worries. Go have fun talking about those biters."

"Philip will be making breakfast this morning." Milton tried to tempt her. In all honesty, he wanted her to come along. Since she had come to Woodbury she had become his apprentice of sorts and a friend.

"Ha! Yeah, definitely sure now. I'll come see you later at the lab when _Philip _isn't around and get the scoop." She replied and finished tying her shoes. Milton was about to leave her, but Gracelyn stood up from her bed and moved passed him in her doorway. She stopped before him and fixed his collar. When she was finished she laid her hand on his chest.

"By the way, not that you don't always," she started and met his gaze, "but you look especially debonair today."

She let her hand fall from his chest as she walked away and headed down the stairs. She opened the door to the building and was greeted with warmth. There was still a breeze, but she could tell that spring was here.

Unfortunately, though, winter was still lingering around the corner and his name was Philip Blake.

"Morning Governor." Gracelyn greeted, trying to hold back her sarcasm. He nodded his head at her, eyes going to something behind her. She looked to see that Milton had stepped out onto the sidewalk behind her.

"Milton, Miss Lyn," Philip looked between them and then his eyes came to rest on her, "I was hopin' you would join us for breakfast."

"Not too hungry this morning. Rain check?" She asked as she began to walk away down the sidewalk.

"Well, truth be told I think the women we're goin' to met would feel betta havin' another woman 'round." He replied, stopping in her tracks. She wasn't getting out of it. She turned around and walked back.

"I'll go get dressed." She announced and began towards the door to her building.

"No need." Philip smiled down at her. It was almost genuine; almost. "You look fine like that. Just tell 'em I snatched ya up before you could go for your daily run. It is after all the truth."

He gave a laugh that sounded legitimate and smiled at her again. Gracelyn was confused. Her eyes went to Milton, asking what was going on silently. He gave a small shrug and glanced back at Philip.

"Come on. You both could use some time away from the lab." Philip waved for them to follow. Milton walked behind him and looked back at Gracelyn from over his shoulder, urging her on to follow him as Philip was halfway across the street already. She did so, but hesitantly. She wondered what had happened. Philip was actually acting… nice, like the Governor she had met the first time she had come to Woodbury. It unsettled her, but she followed close behind Milton, watching Philip with a steady eye.


	17. Chapter 16

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Sixteen**

Before Gracelyn knew it, they were all inside of Philip's apartment. The round table in the middle of the room sat as a reminder of her brothers. She had been in this apartment twice, both times because of Liam and Kenneth. The first was a simple meet and greet. Philip had wanted to know more about them; to be sure they weren't a threat. However, the other time was the night that Merle had dragged her from Milton's lab only to have her find out her brothers had deserted her.

Her eyes drifted away from the table as she took a step further into the room. To the left was a desk with a glass cabinet, a bookshelf and then a closed door. In the back left corner was a small sitting area; armchairs, a coffee table, magazines. Behind the table was a small kitchen with an island on wheels. To the right of the kitchen was another room with curtains pulled apart to show the bedroom.

"Milton, would you mind gettin' some tea goin'?" Philip asked as he shut the door to the apartment. Philip walked up beside Gracelyn and smiled down at her. "Would you mind settin' the table while I cook?"

"Not at all." She smiled back carefully. Philip nodded his head at her and headed into the kitchen area. Gracelyn moved to the island and leaned on it, watching Milton as he made the tea. Philip opened an overhead cabinet and pulled down several plates, placing them in front of her. He then set the silverware on top with napkins. She took it and headed to the table. She set five places and then realized there were only four chairs. She looked over to the kitchen. She was about to open her mouth to question, but Philip noticed and set the frying pan he had in his hand down on the counter. He headed to his desk and rolled the chair out from behind it, pushing it towards Gracelyn.

"Thank you." The words felt funny coming out of her mouth and towards Philip. He was the last person she wanted to thank after everything that had happened the last several months. He patted the top of the chair and nodded his head, giving a small almost dejected laugh. He could tell she was uncomfortable being in his presence.

"Now, I know I haven't been the most gracious of hosts, Miss Lyn." Philip began and pushed the chair in to the table. He turned to her with his left hand resting on the top of the chair. Gracelyn looked over at Milton quickly and then returned her gaze to Philip before her. "I apologize for that, but please try to understand the position I am in."

Milton ceased making tea. He hadn't heard Philip apologize too often. Especially, when he felt he was in the right. Milton's eyes moved to Gracelyn. She had crossed her arms over her chest, signaling to him that she was unsettled by the situation.

"I never asked to be the leader of these people. I sort of just came in to it. They needed someone and I was there and I've been tryin' to do the best I can with what I can ever since. I wasn't given any kind of a manual." Philip paused a moment and gave a small ghost of a laugh. He ran a hand over his mouth and then placed it on his hip. He looked down at the neatly set table and absentmindedly fixed the fork on the napkin. "When I first heard your brothers disappeared, I thought they had just left. Thought they had taken you with them, but then I was informed that two of my men were dead. I didn't know exactly what to think. The only connection to the whole mess was you."

He looked back at her and took a deep breath, sighing softly.

"I never meant to make you feel like there was a target set on your back because of what your brothers did. I was just tryin' to protect this town and these people. I hope you can understand that."

She actually could.

Gracelyn looked down at the table and looked over each place, contemplating. Slowly, she took a breath and licked her lips.

"What about the secret laboratory?" She asked carefully. She didn't want to step over any boundaries if this whole thing was in fact genuine. So far he seemed to be legitimately apologizing, but she had little trust placed in him.

"Not too many people know about the lab and as you now know why; for good reason. It would start a panic and I can't have that. The fact that you weren't brought in on it sooner was my fault." Philip admitted and took a quick glance back at Milton. Gracelyn followed his gaze and then looked back up at him, meeting his stare. "Milton wanted to tell you. Hell, he even went to bat for you tryin' to convince me that you could be trusted; said you could help him in his research. I know now that I should have listened."

Gracelyn chewed on her bottom lip.

"And the alley?" She wanted to hear his excuse for that. He had done well so far.

"Distrust breeds fear and violence. It's a violent cycle and it happens every day in this age. 'specially, since you and your brothers had a very specific skill set comin' in to our fine town. I wasn't sure, honestly, what you were gonna do." Philip stopped there, but it was all Gracelyn needed to understand. She remembered that day; remembered being out of control, hysterical even; remembered running around with a knife; taking the back alleys to get to her destination. She would have had misgivings about someone like that too.

Her eyes moved to Milton, who stared back at her through his glasses, and then looked to the floor beneath her feet. She nodded, but there were still qualms within her about his sincerity. She still didn't believe he had nothing to do with the disappearance of her brothers. She needed have a good foot in with these people, specifically the Governor. So, for now, she would believe him and watch him with a careful eye; a very careful eye.

"Well, alright. How 'bout we get breakfast started?" Philip smiled down at her and then walked into the kitchen area. Gracelyn stood at the table a moment longer. Milton came up, stood next to her and placed the small pitcher of tea on the table.

"Are you alright?" He whispered, careful not to let Philip hear as he moved about the kitchen. Gracelyn didn't meet his eyes and just stared at the pitcher, snorting a laugh.

"You really don't have to keep asking, Milton, because one of these times my answer won't be that I'm alright." She gave a delicate smile and looked to him. She had believed that his eyes were green, but the way the sunlight hit them through his glasses had turned them a wondrous, mysterious spring green with flecks of blue. He looked to her and she swore that he had heard her trying to decide on a name for the color of his eyes.

A knock came from the door of the apartment and made Gracelyn jump. She and Milton both looked to the door, but only Milton looked to Philip in the kitchen. She was grateful for the distraction and stared at the door, touching her cheeks gently, feeling the heat radiate off of them.

"Miss Lyn, would you mind?" He asked as he cracked several eggs into the pan on the stove.

"Nope." She quickly walked to the door and took a deep breath, hoping her cheeks would not betray her. She opened it and her blush drained from her face at the sight of Merle. Behind him were the two women. She narrowed her eyes at Merle, anger from that morning rising again.

"Oh, now don't tell me yer still sore 'bout this mornin'." Merle gave a laugh as Gracelyn ignored him and looked to the women, smiling.

"Come on in." She welcomed and moved back from the door, allowing them inside. She looked back at Merle with the narrowed glance again and then shut the door in his face. She moved passed the women and then faced them.

"I'm Gracelyn." She outstretched a hand to the darker woman, who looked at her with suspicion and distaste. Gracelyn's eyes moved to the woman beside her when she didn't take her hand.

"That's Michonne and I'm Andrea." Andrea took Gracelyn's hand and gave it a firm shake. They let go and Gracelyn looked across the table at Milton. She first darted her eyes from him to the women and then nudged her head in their direction to try and get him to introduce himself.

"Oh, I-I'm Milton Mamet." He took a quick step forward and nearly tripped over his own feet with a hand outstretched. Andrea took his hand and shook it while smiling politely. Gracelyn looked back to Philip and watched a moment as he pushed the eggs around with a spatula.

"And that," Gracelyn pointed to Philip. She was about to call him 'Philip', but second guessed it, "is the Governor."

"Uh, please, sit down." Milton pulled out a chair from the table and motioned a hand for them to take a seat. Andrea and Michonne moved to their seats and sat, Milton pushing in Michonne's and then taking the one beside her. Gracelyn sat down beside Milton and the empty seat for Philip.

"So, eight months out in the world." Philip started as he walked towards the table with the frying pan and spatula. Milton pulled his napkin from the table and stretched it across his lap while Gracelyn picked up the pitcher of tea.

"It's hard to believe you ladies lasted so long." Philip dished out the eggs onto everyone's plate. Gracelyn wanted to cringe when she looked down at the yellow mush, but she kept quiet. She never had liked eggs very much.

"Because we're women?" Andrea asked and looked up at Philip as he pushed the last bit of eggs onto her plate. Gracelyn looked for a lip on the pitcher to pour the tea, but could find none. She turned it over and then tried to pry the top off. Milton caught her hand on the lid with his and stared at her almost exasperatedly. Her eyes grew wide, expression cynical as he took the pitcher from her. He set it down on her tea cup and then gave it a gentle push, releasing the tea.

"Yeah as if I would ever figure that out." She breathed softly and shook her head.

"Two against the world; slim odds." Philip's voice caught Gracelyn's attention. She looked around the table, examining the two women. They were night and day. Andrea seemed a little more at ease than Michonne did.

"We managed." Andrea replied with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Oh we're impressed." Philip comforted her and set the frying pan down on the island.

"Very." Milton piped up and played with the napkin in his lap. Gracelyn wanted to barf, but instead she rolled her eyes. Men were fools in the presence of a pretty woman.

"Survivin' in the wild is tough sledin'; wakin' up every mornin' on the ground; wonderin' if today will be the day." Philip commented and shook his head, sitting down in his seat. "Will it be quick and final or slow and… without end? Will someone have the good sense to kill my brain or will I end up comin' back as one of them?"

There was an uneasy silence that fell about the group. Gracelyn's eyes scanned each person at the table slowly, trying to calculate them.

"Do you think they retain the person they once were?" Milton questioned and looked to Andrea across the table from him. Gracelyn's eyes drifted to him. She had never even thought about that possibility before.

"I try not to think about it." Andrea replied with a mouth full of eggs. The room fell silent again apart from the soft scratching of forks on the ceramic plates.

"Milton believes there might be a trace of the person they once were... still trapped inside." Philip stated and looked to Andrea. Gracelyn wondered what would have led Milton to believe such a thing and whether or not he was right.

"Sort of like an echo." Milton filled a tea cup with tea and handed it across the table to Andrea. "Surely, it must have crossed your mind."

"Yeah: right before it tried to bite me." Andrea gave a laugh and took the tea cup from him, sipping its contents.

"And then you killed it?" Milton's question felt more like an observation. He looked around the table. "I say **it** only because no one around here likes to refer to them as _him_."

Andrea gave him a warning look.

"…or her." Milton looked away and cleared his throat of the foot he had managed to wedge in there. He looked to Michonne, handing her a cup of tea. "The two you had in chains, who were they?"

Michonne said nothing and stared at her plate, hand frozen in its place of dividing up her eggs. She was dead silent. Milton set the cup on the table and pushed it towards her, retracting his hands to his lap.

"The way you control them, used them to your benefit," Milton's expression changed as he understood her silence, "you did know them, didn't you?"

Michonne finally looked to him. Her eyes were hard, expression even harder. Gracelyn let go of her fork and slid her hand onto Milton's knee. She gave it a gentle squeeze, forcing him to look at her, nervousness spiked by the touch. She shook her head as a signal to tell him not to go any further.

"Let them eat." Philip ordered and looked to Milton. Milton's gaze flew to him with guilt in his eyes.

"My apologies." Milton pulled his hands from his lap and looked down at his tea cup. He pulled the pitcher to him and refilled his cup quietly. Gracelyn let her hand slip from his knee and looked back at the table. She spotted a small plate of toast and took a piece, buttering it before nibbling on it.

"So what you have here," Andrea began and tapped her fork against the edge of her plate, "you expect it to endure the crap going on outside?"

Philip leaned back in his seat and looked to Gracelyn. He gave a small nod at her and motioned a hand towards Andrea, indicating for her to go ahead and answer.

"Days you ain't cooped up in Milton's lab, you spend on the wall." He explained. Was this his way of showing he trusted her?

"Uh… well, yeah, it'll hold. It has been for the months that I've been a resident. They're reinforced, thick; strong." Gracelyn answered and looked between Michonne and Andrea.

"What if a herd comes through?" She interrogated.

"Well, we haven't had one yet, but they're slow, ill coordinated and they're only driving force is the need to feed." Gracelyn explained as all eyes turned on her. "There are fewer and fewer humans each day, which means less food, less energy and the better our chances are when a herd migrate this way."

"Sounds like you've dealt with one before." Andrea commented, staring at Gracelyn with a pointed expression. Gracelyn stared right back at her without blinking.

"I've dealt with my share." She replied as her expression softened. She didn't want to remember those times. They were dark and full of pain. Milton knew them well however. Gracelyn had written them down in his notebook.

_'Historical events,_' he had called them, _'Battles in the Great War that people will want to know about when we've won.'_

"_When_?" Milton's question made Gracelyn's attention go immediately to him. She knitted her eyebrows together and tilted her head slightly in contemplation. She didn't understand what he meant at first and then it dawned on her; **when** a herd came.

"The Law of Probability says that it's bound to happen at some point right?" Her question was rhetorical, but Milton nodded hesitantly. "When it happens, we'll be ready. We have some good shots, good weapons and really strong walls."

"Those soldiers had good shots, good weapons, even big walls, but we all know how that played out." Andrea gave a cold laugh and took a bit of her eggs. "It ended in disaster."

"What soldiers?" Gracelyn breathed out as her heart stopped. Her hand had snapped to Milton's knee again and held onto it for dear life. His hand found hers beneath the table and settled on it, holding it tenderly; sympathetically. Andrea let the fork full of eggs slowly lower to her plate. She realized very quickly that she shouldn't have mentioned it. Gracelyn's eyes darted from Andrea to Michonne to Philip. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. She gripped Milton's hand tightly, afraid that if she let go she would fall into an abyss. "What soldiers?"

Philip looked over at Gracelyn and noticed the look that had crossed her face. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"It wasn't either of your brothers. They were from the National Guard." Philip alleviated the worry that had suddenly shot through her. It had been exactly what she was thinking; her brothers out in a crash, dead. Philip gave her shoulder a squeeze and then let his hand fall. "We found a soldier still alive in the crash outside of town. Brought him back here and patched him up. He was talkin' 'bout his convoy still settled out somewheres along the highway. Said they were safe; secure."

The room fell into another silence. Gracelyn breathed a sigh of relief and loosened her grasp on Milton's hand, but didn't let go. She couldn't yet.

"The real secret to Woodbury's success isn't the walls. It's what goes on behind 'em." Philip spoke up and then wiped his mouth with his napkin clean of anything that may be left behind from his breakfast. "It's about gettin' back to who we were; who we truly **are**. We can't just sit around waitin' to be saved. People here have homes. Their kids go to school. There's medical care, food, water. We all have a sense of purpose here. We're a community."

"With a lot of guns and ammunition." Milton breathed out.

"Never hurts." Philip retorted shortly and looked to Milton. Gracelyn looked from Philip to Milton slowly. She had never heard Milton talk like that before, especially not in the Governor's presence. His tone had been annoyed, frustrated maybe. Perhaps if he were anyone else it could be described as defiant, but this was Milton and that had been a tone she had never heard in his voice before.

"And really big walls." Andrea piped up and smiled almost sarcastically.

"And people willin' to give everythin' to defend them." Philip finished and looked back at Andrea. "Compromise our safety, destroy our community; I'd die before I let that happen."

"Kinda looks like you're sitting pretty at the end of the world."

"Do I strike you for the kind of man to sit pretty? We're goin' out there and takin' back what's ours." Philip explained with a steady eye on the blonde to his left. Gracelyn rubbed her thumb over the back of Milton's hand mindlessly as she felt the tension rise in the room.

A long silence encompassed them as Andrea and Philip became caught in a staring contest Gracelyn knew well. A heavy knock came from the door. Gracelyn quickly stood up and headed to the door, finding herself actually praying that it was Merle. She was instead greeted by Bowman, a tall and intimidating man who didn't much care for Gracelyn.

Gracelyn stepped aside from the doorway and opened the door wider. She looked back at the table and to Philip with her lips in a thin line. Philip stood up, excusing himself, and headed to the door. Gracelyn let her hand fall from the doorknob and headed back to the table, taking her seat beside Milton again with a leg crossed beneath her bottom.

"Sorry to cut breakfast short, but I'm afraid this can't wait." Philip announced and closed his door once again. Michonne suddenly stood up, hands in fists at her sides.

"We want our weapons." She demanded and moved away from her seat.

"Your weapons will be waitin' for you outside the gates. You should take time to relax and recover though." Philip was calm, but Gracelyn could see the look in his eye. It was the same one she had seen on his face in the alley. "Get your strength back. Anyway, you might like what you see here in our little town."

Michonne said nothing, but stormed passed him and out the door. Andrea followed after her, not bothering to close the door. Gracelyn downed her tea and stood up from her seat.

"I could use that run now." She announced and walked to the door. She placed a hand on the knob, turned it and stopped at the call of her name; her full name.

"Gracelyn?" Philip called to her, forcing her to turn around. He never used her full name. She waited a moment for him to continue, feeling as though something bad was coming. He looked down at the ground again and ran a hand over his mouth. "Why haven't you run off to find your brothers?"


	18. Chapter 17

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Seventeen**

"Excuse me?" Gracelyn was taken aback by the question.

"I would of thought that the next day you'd of been gone. Or even by now you would have run off after them." Philip explained himself. Gracelyn opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. "But you haven't even tried to leave. Had plenty of chances when Merle set you up on the East wall alone."

"I-I…" She faltered and swallowed the tight knot that had coiled itself in her throat. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to explain. She didn't know why she hadn't gone after them. It wasn't to say that she hadn't thought about going after them, multiple times, every time she stood watch on the wall. It was just... "I'm not sure. Maybe- maybe it's because I wouldn't even know where to look."

"Are you askin'? Or are you tellin' me?" Philip gave a small laugh at her response. The inflection in her voice had betrayed her. She opened her mouth to say something again, but thought better of it. "It don't matter. Either way, I know that ain't it."

Philip took a step closer with his hands on his hips, staring at the floor. He lifted his gaze to her face and examined her expression as though searching for the answer there. Milton looked between the two. Something was wrong with this whole line of questioning. Suspicion rose up within him as he scanned the two locked in a staring contest.

"You know all their tricks, all their hidin' places. You would know exactly where to look." Philip's eyes darted back and forth between hers. Gracelyn shook her head in earnest.

"No, I-I don't know all their tricks and they had no hiding places. We were **always **on the road. We never settled down in one place before Woodbury. So… I don't know where they'd be if I ever left. I'd be alone and lost in the Red Zone." Gracelyn argued back and flailed her arms futilely. Philip nodded his head at her answer, but continued to stare down at her as though expecting more.

"Oh, but I think you would. They're your brothers. They taught you every thin' you know." He observed with a thoughtful look and a gentle voice. He licked his lips quickly and nodded his head once more. "But I believe it's more than that. I think you realized that night they left, what they knew all along. What we all knew the first week you stepped foot in our quiet little town."

"And what was that?" Gracelyn asked in a soft voice, afraid of the answer she was going to get. Milton watched Philip with a steady eye. He sounded to be genuine towards Gracelyn, but there was something in the way he spoke, a hidden meaning, that his ears were picking up. His eyes trailed to Gracelyn, the expression on her face was fear and heartbreak.

"You belong here, with us, in Woodbury." Philip answered matter-of-factly, but it wasn't malicious or unkind in any way. It was just… fact. "I think all of you realized, that world out there beyond our walls, well, that's Liam and Kenneth's world. That's where they belong; where they thrive."

He placed a hand on her shoulder. It carried with it the truth that's weight nearly crushed her. Gracelyn's breathing became deep. She struggled to keep it steady, keep herself steady.

"Philip," Milton spoke up meaningfully and watched Gracelyn as she began to shaky faintly beneath the man's touch. Milton's voice became softer as though he believed that only Philip would hear his next words. "Philip, stop this. Can't you see she's upset? She's shaking."

Philip waved a hand at his right-hand man, telling him to be quiet, and then returned it to his hip. He looked back at Gracelyn again and watched her.

"You carry that rifle of yers like one, but at the end of the day you're no soldier like your brothers and you know that. I wasn't lyin' when I said it before." Philip gave her shoulder a squeeze, drawing Gracelyn's eyes to the point of contact. She looked at it a moment and then stared off at the floor passed it. "Your brothers are fighters. They were taught to survive out there, but not you. Oh no… not you."

Gracelyn's eyes moved to his face, meeting his gaze. He slowly shook his head as the truth appeared to him like a light in the dark.

"You were just a girl when the world went to Hell. What twenty-two, maybe twenty-three? You were barely an adult. You had," he gave a laugh and shook his head again, "dreams 'bout diggin' up some lost civilization, travelin' the world. But, now you're just lookin' for a place where you can feel safe again like you were before. Like we all were or believed we were anyways."

Philip looked between her eyes, looking for any indication that he was wrong. He found none. Gracelyn was no longer looking at him, but through him into nothingness, into her past. Her thoughts were lost to her, halted by his words that seemed unending.

"You were always lookin' for a place where you don't have to always fight or run and hide… where you no longa have ta struggle." Philip watched as she closed her eyes almost peacefully. Tears burned and stung as the truth hit her, but she did not let them fall. The truth was that she was tired of fighting, of running and hiding all the time… but above all else, she was tired of **struggling** to survive, to live. That much he was right about. She would be damned, though, if she gave him the satisfaction of drawing tears from her.

"You were lookin' for a place you could start over in; where you could have all those things you dreamed of havin' as a little girl." Philip clenched the hand on his hip tightly, knuckled going white. "You wanted friends again, maybe even a husband and a house with a white picket fence and children playin' in the front yard. Don't you dare deny that you don't want what we all here want."

"What do you all want?" Gracelyn's voice was so soft that Milton thought her words had only been in his mind.

"Life." Philip stated, hand on his hips loosening. "Same as you."

Gracelyn said nothing more. Philip's truthful stare unnerved her more than his words. She blinked several times, breaking from his spell. She couldn't speak. She couldn't move. He squeezed her shoulder again and then pulled his hand away. He placed it on his other hip and then looked to Milton with mixed feelings that swirled in his eyes. He turned away from Gracelyn. Milton watched Philip walk into the kitchen area while he ran a hand over his mouth and then looked back to Gracelyn.

She was gone and the apartment door was closed. Other then the tension left in the room, there was no other sign to tell him that she had been there at all.

He looked back at the table. He studied the uneaten plate of eggs that had sat before her, the nibbled on triangle of toast and half drunk cup of tea. It looked as though she had just vanished into thin air like some kind of wonderful specter. Milton jumped at the sound of a pan clashing against the metal of the kitchen sink. He looked to the kitchen area and watched Philip for a long moment. Finally, he decided to speak his mind.

"Don't you think that was a little unwarranted?" Milton piped up and looked back at Philip as he played with the unused utensils in Gracelyn's place.

"Un_warranted_? Hell," Philip gave a chuckle while he began scrubbing the frying pan, "I don't think that would be the word I would call it."

"Well, I do. I **did**." Milton argued gently and began picking up the dishes on the table. Philip looked up and out the small window above the kitchen sink. "I don't think it was necessary."

"You think I pushed her too hard." Philip stated, knowing Milton far too well. He looked back at the pan in his hands beneath the water and pulled it out, picking up a dry towel.

"Maybe a bit." Milton walked to the kitchen and placed the dirty dishes by the sink. "She came here believing you didn't trust her, that no one in town trusts her, and that there is a target on her back, nailed there by you… and she left with the same mentality. Even after you apologized and explained your actions, because of the way you were interrogating her once again; treating her like the conspirator everyone seems to believe she is."

"She's their sister."

"Precisely," Milton blurted out and then gave a small, dejected smile, "she's their sister and they left her behind; haven't come back."

Philip clicked his tongue and looked back out the window above his sink.

"She believed they would come back for her." Milton explained, remembering Gracelyn's words, how upset she was, when she finally realized her only family wasn't returning for her.

"Perhaps I was a bit harsh, but that's the price of bein' a leader. I can't be everybody's friend and do what's necessary to keep this town safe." Philip put the dried pan on the other side of the sink and tossed the towel.

**"That** was necessary?" Milton's eyebrows knitted together in scorn. He shook his head and blinked, trying to shake the idea from his mind. "You all but told her forthright that she was the reason why her brothers left and while that may or may not have been the case, Philip, I just think that if you keep-"

"If I keep 'what'?" Philip turned from the running water and dirty dishes to face Milton. The scientist flinched, taken aback by the authoritative action. Philip waved a hand in the direction of his door. "They just leave and she don't care? You don't find it odd that she didn't take off after her brothers that night? Or at all ov'a the last couple a months?"

"Of course I did. I _do_, but I came to the same conclusions you had." Milton shook his head. "Philip, she didn't know they were going to leave. Especially, not without her. She didn't want to leave Woodbury. She had been trying for days to convince them to stay."

Milton was going to ramble on, advocate Gracelyn's position more, but Philip's scoff shut him up. Philip shut the water off to the sink and marched out of the kitchen. Milton looked to the unfinished task in the sink and then to Philip, who pulled one of the wheeled dining chairs from the kitchen table. He walked to his desk and sat down, wheeling his legs beneath.

Carefully, Milton walked out from the kitchen and moved closer to the study area. His hands sat clenched at his sides, partially hidden by his pants.

"What were you hoping to recover from her exactly?" He questioned as he stared down at Philip from the other side of the desk.

"Answers of course." Philip retorted as he pushed things around on his desk. "Isn't that what everyone wants when they ask a question?"

Milton glanced at the ground and then shut his eyes, formulating his next move. He could tell that he was treading on thin ice.

"Differentanswers then the ones she's given you since you first accused her of aiding and abetting her brothers' sudden disappearance?" Milton waited for Philip to catch him on the hidden meaning he had behind his words. He had chosen several of them carefully. He opened his eyes to find that Philip was staring up at him from the desk with a leather-bound journal in his hands. Milton knew that journal well and its contents, which Philip kept a secret from everyone else.

"They're trouble. All three of 'em." Philip announced, though it was nothing new to Milton's ears. For some reason, Philip had felt threatened by the siblings since they had brought Milton home. Perhaps it was the fact that the three had military training while the rest of them were all relying on veterans far past their prime and inexperienced weekend hunters. Or maybe it was because they had strong leadership within them all.

Milton had long since determined that it wasn't Kenneth who Philip had found so objectionable or untrustworthy nor was it Gracelyn. It was the eldest brother, Liam, who never seemed to speak unless there was something truly imperative to say. He blended into the background, studied everything with a vigilant eye. All of them, the siblings and Philip, demonstrated leadership qualities. However, Philip and Liam both exhibited other traits that made them true leaders. But, Philip had noticed immediately that Liam had other attributes that neither Philip nor the other Luan siblings shared. Ones which divided Philip and Liam by a substantial expanse; responsibility, servant-hood, and, above all else, integrity. These established the distinction between a _good _leader and a **great** leader. Philip was good, but Liam was better.

It reminded Milton of a quote he had read a long time ago, written by Abraham Lincoln:

_'Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character… give him power.'_

Philip had power; complete power. Milton was now beginning to see his true character emerge and it concerned him.

"Do you regret letting them into Woodbury?" Milton asked and watched Philip's reaction.

"The brothers, I do."

"And Gracelyn?" Milton challenged. "Do you regret letting her stay even though she's done nothing, but proved her quality time and time again to you?"

"Despite my recent _transgressions_, I don't hold anything' 'gainst Miss Lyn for what her brothers did." Philip looked up at Milton and noticed his troubled expression. "And she **has** proved herself."

"Then why do you keep treating her like a threat?"

"Because she is a threat." Philip snapped and then took a deep breath, sighing heavily. "I would just feel better knownin' where those boys have vanished to. So I can rest easy at night; so we all can."

_Vanished…_

"So you," Milton began slowly. Ever since Gracelyn had told him she had suspicions about Philip, about him having something to do with her brothers' disappearance, those men's deaths, he had been feeling doubt. He had begun to question himself whether Philip would do such a thing and for what reason. "You didn't…?"

_Vanished…_

"You mean did I have them 'taken care of', Milton?" Philip's stare put a chill in Milton's bones. It begged Milton to challenge him again, to give him a reason to retaliate. Milton said nothing, didn't even nod because he was afraid of the Governor's next reaction. "They **killed** Henderson and Klein; horrifically. Then _disappeared_ into the night like phantoms."

_Disappeared…_

Milton stared at Philip, who held his gaze firmly. Despite the fact that Milton's stare wasn't hard or accusing, Philip blinked several times and looked away first. He didn't raise his gaze again.

_Disappeared…_

Philip hadn't answered the question. **At all**. He had dodged it well like the politician he was viewed as being by the people of Woodbury. Somewhere down the line he had disowned Philip Blake and embraced The Governor.

_Vanished… disappeared…_

The words echoed in Milton's mind again and again like a heartbeat, each time growing louder. Philip and Gracelyn used two words solely to describe Liam and Kenneth's actions when they discussed the topic. Only those words; disappeared and vanished. Never 'escaped' or 'left' or even 'ran away' like everyone else in town; just **disappeared** and _vanished_. Something about those two words gave Milton reservations about how truthful Philip really was with him.

Milton was his right-hand. He was supposed to be the one person in the whole town who Philip, The Governor, disclosed everything with; no matter how bad, how ugly or how utterly _horrifically_ terrible it was and sometimes it was absolutely unspeakable. Sometimes it kept Milton up late at night in his lab, struggling to find the words to use when he inscribed it into his notebook; Thee History Book.

"What will you do if you find them?" Milton's voice was nearly a whisper. He hadn't realized he had even spoken aloud until Philip became rigid in his seat. His gaze rose and stared at the edge of his desk closest to Milton where a picture sat.

"When I find them," Philip's voice was soft, but intense. Milton's mind honed in on the word 'when'. It was foreboding and menacing and again made Milton question what really had happened to Gracelyn's brothers. Philip lifted his gaze to Milton, eyes hard and expression ever harder, "I'll do whatever I need to do to make sure my town is safe."

They stared at each other for a long moment; a moment that seemed an eternity in Milton's mind. He had stood immobilized by the fire that swelled within Philip's gaze. Then, as though freed from a possession, Milton turned away and headed to the door of the apartment. He opened it and looked back at Philip, who opened his leather-bound journal and began writing. He watched him, studied him, and then turned his gaze to the ground as he closed his eyes. It was the look of surrender.

Milton walked out the door with his head hung and eyes fastened to the floor beneath his feet. His mind raced and his heart grew heavy as he walked out of the building and down the street towards a red bricked building. He hadn't even realized his feet had carried him to this specific building until he was pulling out a key from his pocket and unlocking the door. He walked inside and locked the door behind him, turning around to face his apartment that he had left unattended for so long.

It was clean. It was simple. It was plain. It was him.

He laid his keys on the small table beside the door and then walked to the couch straight ahead. He sat down and stared at the wall across the room. There was a television on a coffee table with a DVD player beside it. CDs were neatly aligned in on the shelves beneath and above the drawers. The remotes sat on the other coffee table right before Milton at his feet. His eyes focused on the small webcam sitting atop the television, staring back at him with an accusing eye.

He looked towards the desk diagonal to the couch, sitting by the wall where three windows were neatly arranged in precise measurements apart. The desk was clean and barren apart from a laptop, a single  
lamp and a webcam. It showed no other evidence that someone had once sat there for hours on end.

From there his eyes fell upon the doorway leading into the petite kitchen; tiled floor, faux marble countertops with ginger-maple cabinets beneath them, another rectangular table with six chairs. Again, the table was clean and barren with no evidence that someone had dined upon it three times a day.

Milton's eyes moved to the hallway that led into the living room several feet from where the television sat. He could picture the empty hall, the wide open bathroom door and his bedroom; a simple queen bed, plain tan sheets, a nightstand, dresser and the master bathroom that left a lot to be desired.

His entire home was like this; barren, neat, silent. It was a cage.

Milton leaned back on the couch with his hands laced in his lap. He stared at the wall, the silence deafening. This had been his life. He had moved through his home, his life, day after day, listening to the paint chip from the wall; to life happening outside on the street below.

That had been his life before the smiling; before the laughing; before the singing; before the blonde woman who called him friend.

It was a life he wanted no part of ever again.


	19. Chapter 18

**.: ****Author's Note ****:.**

Some bad news guys… not as bad as you're thinking RIGHT NOW. Relax. I'm not about to say the forbidden word: hiatus. Nope. Just wanted to tell you all that postings are going to become _slow_, much slower than normal. Good news! It's only going to be for about two weeks. I have finals coming up this next week and then I'm on holiday to Italy. I may write while in Italy, but I WILL NOT BE POSTING. Everyone will have to wait until I get back home for that.

_*Cough* unless I get LOTS of feedback *cough_*

Thanks,

Winnie

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Eighteen**

Gracelyn had stood there in the hall, listening to Milton and Philip inside the apartment for several minutes. The only thing that had kept her from crumbling to the floor had been the wall that her back had been firmly pressed to. She had wanted nothing more than to become one with it, just disappear and become the plaster and pant. Her eyes had been wide, sight hazy from unfocused vision as her mind had tried to comprehend everything Philip had said.

She had found the strength to head down the hall and out into the sunlight where she had began to walk… and then walked faster… and then jogged… and then sprinted as though the Devil himself was behind her.

She had run until her legs had grown so sore that she could hardly walk. It had taken a while, but she had done it. She had taken the scenic route; up and down alleys, back and forth through the streets, along the entire perimeter of town, even through the small park towards the fence she loved so much. She hadn't been keeping track of time. She had found the idea moot a long while ago.

She had headed back to her building after cooling off by the fence, watching the biters lurch about mindlessly. She had felt better, much better, than she had in days. All her anger, frustration, all the pent up energy was gone. Or at least it had become dormant for the time being.

She had showered, dressed and crawled into bed, but had not fallen fast asleep. For, Merle had never shown that night to protect her from the darkness that threatened to swallow her whole. It had been the first time in a long time since she was forced to face the blackness alone. She had tossed and she had turned and she had listened to the paint peel from the walls. Finally, when it was nearing daybreak, she closed her eyes and was lost to exhaustion.

She awoke in the morning to the sun blaring in through her window and catching her eyes. She groaned and pushed her head beneath her pillow, holding the sides down to keep any and all light away. Finally, she resigned to sitting up and embracing the day the best she could; little sleep, empty stomach, and a mess of people who didn't trust her awaited her arrival.

She showered, even shaved her legs with one of the disposable razors Jolene supplied her with, and then dressed in jean shorts and a lacey tank top that showed her bra-straps. She sat on her bed and began towel drying her hair when she heard a commotion outside. She got up while still drying and looked out her window. People walked quickly passed her building towards the main gates.

Gracelyn moved to her dresser, dropped the towel on the end of her bed and picked up a hair-tie. She threw her wet hair in a messy bun and found her sandals. She headed down the stairs when she was finished and hit the door, pushing it open with such a force that it nearly hit the wall. She watched as people passed her by, talking and whispering about something at the gate. She marched along with them, but was still unclear of what was happening until she saw it.

People were gathered around several vehicles Gracelyn didn't recognize as belonging to Woodbury. They were military; all of them. Philip stood by a Humvee with Merle and Milton, whispering to each other heatedly. Gracelyn slowed her pace and looked around. The whole situation was strange. She questioned where the military vehicles had come from and then remembered Philip mentioning the convoy on the highway.

Her eyes went back to the whispering men. Something was said and Philip and Merle departed, leaving Milton standing in his place. He looked upset about something, even angry maybe. He looked around at the gathered townspeople and then headed up the road a little bit with his gaze firmly on the ground beneath his feet. His footfalls were heavy with the weight of whatever was on his mind. He flicked his thumb over his upper lip and passed by the crowd to his left, including Gracelyn who watched him carefully.

Gracelyn went to move, to catch his arm and ask what was happening, but a voice bellowed out over the chatter of nosy neighbors.

"We brought in three new people yesterday." Philip began as he pulled himself up onto the back of the Humvee. Gracelyn felt someone staring at her and looked around. She met the stare of Andrea and held it for a moment before looking away again. "One was a helicopter pilot with the National Guard. He told us about his convoy set up by the highway… I… Well, I promised I would bring them back here alive."

Gracelyn noticed movement by the front gate where the other vehicles sat. Merle moved to Jacobsen, Bowman and Martinez, saying something in a low voice with a hard brow. Gracelyn knitted her eyebrows together in query and watched as Merle seemed to get heated, grabbing Jacobsen by the shirt collar and shaking him. Jacobsen nodded and in another moment the group departed, each going a different way.

"They didn't have our walls or our fences. The biters got to them before we could." Philip's words brought her attention back to him. He looked remorseful, but something about the way he wouldn't meet a single person's gaze, the way Merle marched out of sight, made Gracelyn believe otherwise.

She had forgotten about the interruption at breakfast by Bowman. She now understood why Merle hadn't been there when she awoke. He hadn't been in town the entire night. He had been out fighting things that went bump in the night somewhere else.

Gracelyn looked back at Milton. She saw the look of trouble on his face again. He stared up at Philip, straight and with his head held high. He was definitely upset over something; maybe even on the verge of finding whatever it was the Governor had said to him and Merle disagreeable and insufferable.

His gaze fell to the ground and then glanced back at Philip before he suddenly began to walk away again. Gracelyn looked back at the group. She watched as they moved closer to the vehicles to examine them with wide, smiling faces. She shook her head and then jogged after Milton.

Gracelyn's legs hurt. Her knees buckled, but she pushed on.

He was fast when he was lost to his thoughts. Whatever was on his mind must have really upset him. With each footfall it was clear he was on a mission to get away. Away from what though? He had always been a loner. He had always spent his time in town alone in his lab with his experiments and notebook. However, this time was different. This time he wasn't trying to get away from the people, from Philip. It was something else entirely; something that you couldn't simply outrun.

Gracelyn knew this _need_ to escape. She had felt it all the time since her brothers had disappeared. It was the desperate attempt of someone who refused to admit the truth, to acknowledge it. But Gracelyn also knew, that 'that truth' was the one thing that you could never outrun no matter how fast you ran or how far or for how long. It would always be right on your heels: forever.

That truth: there was **no** escape. No escape from the pain, from the sorrow; from the Hell that they were forced to live in.

Gracelyn reached out to grab him and missed his suit sleeve. She fell behind and stopped. A small knot formed in her chest and burned. It was determination. It made her jog up to him again, to push through the stifling pain in her legs, and this time catch him by the arm.

He cut short his next step and turned to look at who had captured him. His whole demeanor seemed to change when he saw Gracelyn on his arm. His once hard look went soft with surprise as he stared into her eyes, his own darting left and right.

"Hey, are you alright?" She asked gently as he looked up from her hand to meet her stare. "I saw you with Merle and Philip. You didn't look to happy with something that was said. What's going on?"

"Nothing is wrong." He started and looked back down the street at the gathering. His response did nothing to remedy the concern Gracelyn held. Neither did his look. "It's just… it's terrible that they couldn't get there in time to save those men."

Gracelyn followed his gaze and scanned the heads and backs of the people. They all looked up, quite literally, to Philip their Governor; their leader; their…god.

"Yeah, it is terrible." Gracelyn muttered and watched as Philip stared down on all of the citizens, looking from one to the next. It reminded Gracelyn of all the great tyrants throughout history who had believed they were Gods among men. She saw them all as men whose heads had swelled with hubris, nothing more. They were no better than anyone else, no wiser than each other, no more powerful. Each one of them had met their ultimate downfall at some point. She was certain Philip's would be coming too.

Milton pulled away from her grasp and headed towards the direction of his lab once more. She watched him go with a thoughtful eye and then caught up with him again. She said nothing and just wrapped her arms around his left at the elbow. She laid her head against his shoulder and walked along with him quietly.

"Milton, you know I'm here for you, right?" She asked and looked up at him, keeping herself close to his side. He glanced at her and nodded abruptly, swallowing hard. "If you ever need anything; to talk about any**thing **or about any**one**, I'm here for you. I'm a good listener when I'm not talking. I… I _understand_ more than people give me credit for."

"Thank you." He was truly gracious of the offer and he didn't doubt her claim. He knew she perceived the world in a different light, much like him, and that she did in fact **understand** more than the others.

_An old soul_, Milton thought as he stared down at Gracelyn. He looked back ahead of them. Gracelyn continued to stare up at him as he led them away from the crowd. She knew she had made him uncomfortable.

She knew she should let go, but something within her didn't want to; something deep, deep down said, "…_not yet_..."

They walked into the lab; Gracelyn first and then Milton. He was always the gentleman, holding the door for her, but he never looked at her this time. His gaze was firmly set ahead before him. Gracelyn looked back at him over her shoulder as she headed for the armchair. Milton walked to his desk and removed his suit coat, slinging it over his desk chair. This left him in his normal attire of a short-sleeved button up and light tan dress pants. He sat down, pulled himself in and turned on the desk lamp. He began writing in his notebook, pencil scratching against the paper lightly.

Gracelyn outstretched a hand as she approached the armchair, waving blindly until she found an arm. She slowly, gracelessly, lowered herself into the seat, one leg folded beneath her. She then picked up a book, one she had begun a while back, from the side table. She curled up, pulled one knee to her chest, and opened the book to the last page she had read. She didn't begin though. Her eyes rose over the top of her book and fixed on Milton. She watched him scratch his temple with the eraser of his pencil in thought.

She had never really **looked **at him before; _studied_ him. She had never noticed how his personality changed when he disappeared into his lab. Outside he was awkward, fidgety, and often times he was uncouth. He stumbled over his words as well as his own two feet. He didn't know the right things to say, the right way to act. But here in his lab, he was at home. His shoulders relaxed. He slouched in his seat. He even ran his hands through his floppy, sandy colored hair.

"What are you thinking about?" Gracelyn asked and lowered her book to her lap, finger marking her page. Milton glimpsed at her, seeming to have forgotten she was even there. He did that a lot.

"Oh, just how to describe today's events properly." He replied and pulled his hand from his hair. Gracelyn nodded her head slowly and picked up her book again, hiding her face behind it. She heard the scratching of the pencil again and peeked over the top of her book.

Milton shook his head and then sighed softly, pushing his hand back into his hair. He closed his eyes and sat still, trying to think. Finally, he let the pencil slip from his hand and covered his face with his palms; elbows on the desk.

"Do you want some help?" Gracelyn asked and watched patiently until Milton haphazardly nodded his head, face still in his palms. Gracelyn smiled and stood up from the armchair. She left the book in her place before heading to him. She stood beside him, left hip resting against the desk and eyes on the open notebook.

"What do you have so far?" She asked again and looked back at him.

"At precisely 5:43 PM, the search party returned with two military trucks and a Humvee." He replied and shook his head.

"Yeah eek, um," Gracelyn looked off at the ceiling and wiggled her nose a moment in thought. "Yeah sorry, I got nothin'."

Milton sighed heavily and pulled his face from his hands. He laced his hands together and laid them on top of the notebook, staring out at the lab through the instruments on his desk.

"Okay, come on." Gracelyn gave a small laugh and pushed herself from the desk. She stepped behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "You need to relax and just… let it come to you."

"How very _free-spirited_ you are." Milton derided gently, but Gracelyn knew it was in good humor. She moved a hand to the base of his skull and hastily kneaded, earning an annoyed and slightly painful groan.

"You going to behave now, Dr. Mamet?" She questioned rhetorically with a grin.

"Leave me alone so I can think." Milton replied. Gracelyn laugh and moved her hand back to the shoulder it had originally been on.

"I used to do that to Liam." She spoke while she gently began to knead his shoulders, applying firm pressure when she squeezed. "Ugh, he **hated **it. He'd scrunch his shoulders up and close his eyes really tight. Try weasel himself out of it."

She could feel Milton's muscles tense beneath his shirt, but she couldn't tell whether it was because he was stressed or because she, a female, was touching him. She watched her motions, but after another moment it didn't seem like he was going to relax.

"Milton, I'm trying to help." She encouraged and continued her ministrations.

"I-I know." He breathed out, shutting his eyes tightly and scrunching his nose. "I just-"

Gracelyn reached around his head and pulled his glasses off nimbly. She folded them and set them on the desk.

"Fold your arms on the desk and lay your forehead against them." She ordered tenderly. Her motions ceased for the moment.

"Gracelyn," Milton went to refuse, but Gracelyn rolled her eyes and sighed heavily through her nose. She lowered her head beside his and stared down at the open notebook on the desk.

"Let me help." Her voice was soft, warm. Her breath tickled his ear as it passed over it. He couldn't refuse. He closed the notebook, pushed it aside and folded his arms, laying his forehead down upon them. Gracelyn smirked triumphantly and stood back up. She took up her action again and kneaded his shoulders with kind hands. She worked his shoulders for several minutes and then moved to his neck. She worked up to the base of his skull. Her right hand moved up into his hair, fingers and nails messaging his head.

Milton sighed deeply at this; almost moaned even.

"Feel good?" Gracelyn asked with a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. Milton nodded his head, moving her hand along with it. She gave a small laugh and then took her bottom lip into her mouth, the left side slipping from her teeth. She continued her work, lifting her gaze up to look out at the rest of the lab.

She lost track of time. Her fingers hadn't though and they were getting sore and stiff. She slowly worked her hands down to his shoulders again and then over his biceps, working her way down his arms. She was sinking closer and closer to him until her hands lay on his elbows, her arms on top of his. She turned her head to the left and rested it against his left shoulder, closing her eyes.

"Feel better?" She breathed out, suddenly feeling sleepy. Milton lifted his head. He laid his chin on his folded arms, eyes closed and resting peacefully. He nodded his head, gliding it back and forth across his arms. Gracelyn gave a breathy laugh and slid her hands up his arms, resting them on his biceps. She used her whole body and gave him a caring squeeze. She was waiting to see how long it took before he became uncomfortable with her pressing up against him. So far, he hadn't even noticed.

Milton was in a state of tranquility. His mind was at peace for the first time that day; for the first time… ever. He had a feeling of warmth and security wrapped around him like a blanket; an embrace.

"Would you mind if I stayed here while you worked?" Gracelyn's breath tickled his ear. She opened her eyes and stared at the model of Woodbury across the room.

"No that's fine. I might be here all night though." Milton replied, half coherent to the current situation. Gracelyn turned her head, kissed his cheek and then let her hands fall from him as she walked to the armchair.

Milton felt the warmth slip away like the sun falling behind a cloud. He lifted his head, pulled on his glasses and watched Gracelyn curl up in the armchair with the book she had been reading before. She laid her head against the lip of the back of the chair, cradling her forehead to it. She opened the book and gave a wide yawn, covering it with her fingers delicately cupped before her mouth. Milton looked back down at his desk and leaned away, sitting up straight once again. He pulled the notebook back before him and opened it to the page he had left off on. He picked up his pencil and, after glancing at Gracelyn, began to work once again with a clear head.

Something fell to the floor with a _'swish' _and _'thud'_, catching Milton's attention with a start. Milton looked up from his work and peered passed his instruments. Gracelyn was fast asleep in the armchair, right arm dangling over the armrest and book collapsed beneath her fingertips on the ground. Milton looked over his shoulder at the table pushed up against the wall behind him. He read the clock and then turned back around, pushing his glasses up and rubbing his eyes with one hand. He gave a yawn and fixed his glasses, looking back at Gracelyn. She stirred, stretching her back and then relaxing back into the armchair once more.

Milton stood up from his seat with a deep, slow intake of breath and sauntered towards a metal utility closet near the corner where Gracelyn slouched in the armchair. He opened one door and reached up to the top shelf, pulling down a bundle of red, orange and white. He closed the closet and unraveled the bundle. He carefully covered Gracelyn with the blanket and then bent down to pick up the book. He closed it and set it on the side table next to the chair.

Before he stood back up, he looked to Gracelyn's sleeping form. Her hair, which had been pulled back in a ponytail at one point, was mussed. Her bangs fell free across her face, concealing fractions of her features. He outstretched a steady hand and tenderly pushed her bangs behind her ear, having to repeat the stroke twice more to get them all to stay. His fingers, on their way back to him, caressed Gracelyn's skin like a feather and fell below her ear, trailing along her jaw line. His hand moved back and cupped her cheek, thumb sailing across her bottom lip effortlessly.

_"Liam… Kenneth…" _Gracelyn breathed out and moved in her sleep, trying to get into a more comfortable position. Milton snatched his hand back and rose instantaneously. His hands ran up and down against his pants, purging them of the perspiration that had suddenly accumulated. He watched her for a moment and then strode back to his desk. He sat down and shuffled several things around, trying to figure out what he was supposed to be doing.

He took a quick look at Gracelyn, who slept peacefully, and then closed his eyes tightly, eyebrows pushed together tightly.

What had he been thinking? Why would he touch her like that while she was sleeping, while she was vulnerable?

He opened his eyes and picked up his pencil. He pulled out a different notebook and opened it to his notes on the undead visitors he had had in his lab, courtesy of Michonne. He read the first paragraph twice, retaining nothing of what was there. He closed his eyes again, huffed softly, and pushed everything in his mind aside to focus. He read the paragraph again, but his eyes drifted up and over the rims of his glasses ever so slowly.

There would be no focusing on work for him tonight.

He set the pencil back down and pulled off his glasses. He held them in one hand and rubbed his eyes with the other. His mind drifted to Liam and Kenneth at the recount of Gracelyn's murmuring. He wanted more than anything to forget the two, forget the accusations against Philip, forget his own distrust in Philip, but he couldn't. It was a voice that was growing louder day by day, telling him that he knew what had happened; the truth; another truth. There was becoming so many out of the lies that had created Philip's web and Milton was drowning in them.

He pulled his glasses back on and looked at Gracelyn. She slept soundly in the chair, contorted in what anyone else would find uncomfortable positions. She was happy though. At least she seemed to be happy. It had taken a while; weeks. Finally, she and Philip's feuding seemed to be cooling off. They seemed to understand they had to be cordial with each other while they both lived in Woodbury; not only for the peoples' sanity, but for their own.

And his…

Milton could see the dominoes beginning to fall. Things were slowly becoming undone. Gracelyn and Philip were both hanging from a cliff and Milton was the only one who could save them: one of them. He was going to have to choose. He didn't want to choose. He didn't want to be forced to choose. But, if they kept it up, if Gracelyn continued to distrust Philip and Philip continued to distrust Gracelyn, then Milton would have **no choice**.

Milton looked at Gracelyn again and then down at his notebook. He was struggling to balance on the fence the two had erected. Sooner or later he was going to have to jump. He just prayed it was later; much, much later.


	20. Chapter 19

**Song:** Lost in Paradise

**Artist:** Evanescence

I think you all misunderstood me. While my exams are going on I'm going to try and continue to post. It's when I'm in Italy, starting Saturday and going till the following Saturday, that I won't be posting. I want to try to make it at least to chapter 20 before I take off.

Thanks,

Winnie

* * *

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Nineteen  
**

_I've been **believing** in something so distant…_

_…as if **I was human**…_

_And I've been **denying** this feeling of hopelessness…_

_…in me… in** me**…_

The wind blew gently through the green leaves of the maple trees outside. The sky was crystal blue, small wisps of clouds floated along. The grass was a lush green that hosted flowers of all colors and characteristics, feeding the buzzing bees that hopped from one to the next. Birds sang sweet melodies as they chased one another across the sky; diving and soaring.

Gracelyn slouched in her seat with her hands laced over her belly. She watched the outside world, wishing she were a part of it. She had been stuck inside all day with ill fluorescent lighting and the acrid smell of bleach wafting through the air. Each room she traveled to was a different temperature than the last, making her skin crawl with uncertainty on how to react. The seat she sat in, the same one she had been sitting in for almost an hour, had begun to make her rump numb.

She could hear distant voices, but couldn't make out the words. Creaks echoed through the room in an inconsistent fashion. Something scratched against wood repetitively along with an insistent tapping. Somewhere a clock ticked by; tick… tock… tick… tock…

"Miss Luan? Are you still with us back there?" Gracelyn's gaze turned from the window and looked to the professor at the front of the classroom. She hadn't heard what had been asked, but by the looks of the students who turned in their seats to stare at her, she could tell the question had been repeated numerous times.

"Sorry Professor Waylon." Gracelyn apologized and sat straighter in her seat. She picked up her pen and tapped her nails against its body nervously. "I was lost in my thoughts."

"We could all see that." Professor Waylon replied, looking at her from the tops of his glasses. "Would you care to indulge us a little about the late Republic in Rome?"

Gracelyn took a deep breath and sighed heavily, looking down at her notebook. There were some bullet points, but they ceased half way down the page.

"What would you like to know, sir?" She asked and looked back down at him. He smiled and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against his desk.

"Rome in the Spanish Wars and please mention the Brothers Gracchus; specifically Tiberius." He replied and waited patiently for her to answer. Gracelyn ceased her tapping and clicked her tongue.

"Damn it…"

_All the **promises** I made..._

_…just to let you down…_

_You believed in me, but I'm **broken**…_

_I have nothing left…_

_…and all I feel is this cruel wanting…_

_We've been falling for all this time…_

_…and now **I'm lost** **in paradise**…_

Gracelyn walked the long halls of the college with her backpack on. She reached down to the straps and pushed her thumbs through the openings, holding them out before her in a normal habit. She smiled to familiar faces, greeted people she talked to in class and the professors. She headed on her way out into the sunlight, taking a deep breath to fill her lungs with fresh air of spring. The breeze blew passed her and mussed her hair.

"I wish I hadn't of cut it now." Gracelyn grumbled and she tried her best to fix the A-line cut. She ran a hand over the back of her head to straighten out the cascade of blonde, moving to the front to fix the falling waves that framed her face. "At least I thought to clip my bangs back. Even though, I look like a mini Snooki now."

She walked down the stone steps of the Arts and Sciences Building and began down the path through the courtyard. The cheerleaders were out in the grass and Gracelyn quietly sang their cheers along with them as she passed by. She looked at the groups of students she passed. Some sat in the grass in circles; others sat on benches, but most stood. She spotted a flash of bright red coming towards her from the corner of her eyes and turned in time to be caught.

"Meghan, you're lucky you weigh nothing." Gracelyn groaned and wrapped her arms around the tall, thin girl who had clambered onto her, wrapping her arms and lanky legs around her. "Otherwise I'd drop your ass."

"Some friend you are." She griped and fell off, landing clumsily on the ground with two feet. She tossed her hair from her face and stared down at Gracelyn with her hands on her hips.

"Can I help you?" Gracelyn laughed and began walking down the path to the dorms and library. Meghan followed close to her side like a child. She took Gracelyn's arm in hers and laid her head on her shoulder awkwardly with the height difference.

"You're coming tonight right?"

"I don't want to." Gracelyn squinted against the sun in her eyes as they stepped onto the sidewalk, clear from the enclosure of the yard. Meghan removed her head and pulled Gracelyn's arm tighter to her.

"Damn it Gracie, I've been working on this all day." She scoffed in contempt at the time it had taken her.

"I don't want any kind of a party." Gracelyn protested and mocked a cry, trying to appear childish. "I just want a quiet night where I can wallow in self-pity with my best friends."

"I don't want to wallow. Wait, best _'friends'_ as in plural?" Meghan pulled back from Gracelyn slightly, but refused to release the captive arm.

"Yeah, I have more than one." Gracelyn acted as composed as she could and did not meet the wrathful stare that was burning a hole through her. "You know them too."

"Who are they? Please don't say one of them is Lacey Jennings. She's a royal **BITCH**." Meghan sneered and looked ahead to see where Gracelyn was leading them.

"Definitely not. Not even if she were the last person on Earth." Gracelyn shook her head and continued to lead them towards the library. "Their names start with 'B' and 'J'."

"Brittany Myers and Jocelyn Roark?"

"What is it with you thinking that I'm in with the cheerleaders?" Gracelyn laughed and shook her head again. Meghan shrugged and looked down at the sidewalk. "And thanks for naming some guys in there. You know, I'm not completely revolting to the opposite sex."

"I didn't mean it like that." Meghan laid her head on Gracelyn's shoulder and hugged her arm. "You know I love you and so do the boys. They're all just idiots and Elijah is the king."

"That's for sure."

"He doesn't deserve you… **I** do." Meghan pulled back and grinned down at her. Gracelyn laughed and looked up at her. Meghan stopped them and fell to one knee, holding Gracelyn's left hand in her own. "Marry me, mi amore. I've loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you that fateful morning in sixth grade."

"Oh, but you know I can't do that, my darling. What would people think?" Gracelyn played along, curving her voice to sound like a southern belle. She threw the back of her free hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. "Besides, Mama and Papa forbid it."

"Run away with me then." Meghan stood up and held Gracelyn by her upper arms. She shook her gently, pretending to shake sense into her. "Please, I cannot be without you."

"But you must." Gracelyn turned her face away. "You must…"

"You two are very _peculiar_." A deeper, rich voice broke up their playful act. Gracelyn and Meghan looked behind them at the newcomer. It was a man with lush, dark brown hair that was short and gelled almost to perfection. His warm chocolate eyes moved from one girl to the next slowly, taking in the sight. He was dressed in faded jeans and a blue t-shirt, which was taut across his toned chest. His hands found his pant pockets and crawled inside them, leaving his thumbs out in sight.

"Oh, Elijah!" Gracelyn pretended to break down in tears. She outstretched a hand towards him and placed the other over her mouth. She moved closer to him and laid a tentative hand to his chest, feeling his muscles beneath the thin fabric. "Is it really you? Have you really returned from the war?

"Babe, stop it." Elijah ordered gently as Gracelyn wrapped her arms around him and lifted her left leg up to curl around his waist. Gracelyn could feel his disproval was being projected half-heartedly. She turned her eyes up to him, head against his shoulder and sniffled playfully. "People are staring."

"Let them stare!" Gracelyn flailed an arm and then placed her hands to her chest, covering her heart. "Let them **know** my love for you!"

"Let them know." Meghan repeated Gracelyn's words with closed eyes, hand to her chest and shaking her head like it was some kind of revival.

"Let them **see** my love!" Gracelyn exclaimed and returned her arms to Elijah, hugging him tightly.

"Let them see." Meghan repeated once again and lifted her gaze to the sky, hands clasped before her.

"Sweetheart," Elijah started with a small laugh and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her tightly to him, "I love you, but you're far too outlandish."

"No, I'm eccentric." Gracelyn corrected and nestled herself against him firmly. She closed her eyes and nuzzled her face into his chest, feeling the soft fabric against her skin.

"Sure. Let's call it that." Elijah laughed and watched Meghan.

"Cruel Gods! Why do you toy with such naïve hearts? Do not fall prey to the devil's persuasions." Meghan pointed an accusing finger towards the sky. Gracelyn laughed and looked to her best friend.

"It's over, my love." Gracelyn called gently, giving Elijah a tender squeeze. He placed a kiss on the top of her forehead, letting his lips remain like a feather. "This man has claimed my heart; forever more."

"Forever more…" Meghan let her head hang, hand to her chest. Gracelyn laughed again wholeheartedly. Meghan followed shortly after, standing up straight and flipping her hair from her face. "Do you know who the two guys are that Gracelyn is bringing to her pity party tonight?"

"Pity party, huh?" Elijah looked down at the girl in his arms. His lips curled into a sly smirk. Gracelyn nodded her head simply. Elijah looked back to Meghan. "I believe their names begin with 'B' and 'J' if she's planning to wallow tonight."

"What the fuck!" Meghan blurted out. Gracelyn laughed heartily while Elijah tried to control himself. "Who the Hell are these mother fuckers?"

"In the words of someone or other great," Elijah began and looked back down at Gracelyn. His eyes darted between hers. His lips twitched at the corners, a sign that he was desperately trying not to grin. "All will be revealed."

Elijah looked back at Meghan and smiled softly.

"Are they at least good looking?" She resigned herself and crossed her arms over her chest, jutting a hip out.

"Oh, they're _delicious_." Gracelyn snickered as Elijah pulled her away with him, trapped by his strong, secure embrace. Gracelyn nestled closer to his side; happy, content and blissfully unaware.

_As much as I'd like the past **not** to exist…_

_…it still **does**…_

_And as much as I'd like to **feel** like I belong here…_

_…I'm just as **scared** as you…_

It had finally become night. The air was cool and blew through the trees like a whisper, making the leaves dance. The moon shone brightly in the sky and illuminated the earth below. It was unusually quiet for this time of year for there to be no noise outside, not even a cricket.

"Meghan," Gracelyn began as she walked out from the kitchen of her apartment. She stopped at the side of the armchair where Meghan sat. Something lay hidden behind the blonde's back. "I want you to meet Ben and Jerry."

She pulled out the two cartons of ice cream, holding them out to Meghan to choose. Meghan closed her eyes, ground her teeth and groaned.

"Real cute bitch." Meghan smiled sarcastically and hastily snatched the Cherry Garcia along with the spoon. Gracelyn laughed and looked over at the couch where Elijah sat.

"What are you watching?" Gracelyn asked as she walked to the couch and plopped down beside Elijah, opening the Chocolate Nougat Crunch. She spooned herself some of the ice cream and then dipped again, holding the spoon up to Elijah.

"The news: apparently there is a rash of murders in Chapel Hill." He took the spoonful without looking, gaze intently on the television where the news flashed by in clips.

"That's only one town over." Gracelyn commented and looked at the television. She watched the newscasters debate the sudden and strange murders.

"That's what's always on the news; death and mayhem." Meghan piped from her spot in the armchair. She hung her legs over one of the arms, leaning her left elbow on the other to support her.

"This is different." Elijah replied simply, eyes never leaving the screen. Gracelyn looked over at Meghan and rolled her eyes with a smile.

"How is it different babe?" She asked and spooned herself more ice cream.

"Apparently, these guys are cannibals." He replied, looking down at Gracelyn quickly to gauge her reaction. She coughed, choking on the ice cream and sat up a little. He placed a hand to her back and rubbed soothingly.

"I'm sorry what? There are people eating other people?" She asked through another series of coughs. "Here? In North Carolina?"

Meghan's gaze went to the television and watched the clips of crime scenes.

"Where are the bodies?" She questioned with a shrug. "So far I've only seen photographs and video clips of pools of blood."

"They don't know." Elijah glanced at Gracelyn quickly, deciding whether or not to continue further.

"And…?" Megan encouraged. "Don't worry about Gracie. She'll be fine. Give me the 4-1-1 on these _supposed_ cannibals running around N.C."

"They haven't found bodies any yet. Apparently they disappear after they've been snacked on. Just blood and... _pieces_ remain." Elijah glanced at Meghan and then looked down at Gracelyn, who was obviously uncomfortable with the topic of choice. He wrapped his arm around her, cradling her to the crook beneath his shoulder. His thumb ran along the exposed flesh of her hip that her tank and short shorts were unable to cover in her position. He then kissed her hair, whispering to her that she had nothing to worry about. Gracelyn leaned against him again contently, looking into the carton in her hand for nougat that was lost beneath the cream to mask her worry. She slowly sank lower and laid her head in his lap, back flat against the couch cushions.

"Are they part of a cult?" Meghan asked as she raised a spoon to her mouth.

"They don't know. They're thinking that these people are mentally unstable at the moment." He replied.

"You think?" Meghan mocked as her eyes followed Gracelyn's spoon as it traveled to Elijah's lips. He took it, but some of it missed his mouth and trailed down his chin. Gracelyn laughed. Elijah wiped the ice cream away and licked it off his finger, shaking his head with a smile.

"You think that's funny huh?" He taunted and looked down at Gracelyn in his lap. She said nothing and only took a spoonful from the carton. Elijah knocked her hand, causing ice cream to fall onto her nose, sliding over her face. She laughed enthusiastically, closing her eyes to avoid ice cream running into them. Elijah swiftly began to wipe the ice cream away, eating it off his fingers. He smiled down at Gracelyn, who met his gaze and continued to laugh. Slowly, his head lowered and his lips captured hers in a tender kiss, pulling away a moment later.

"You two are assholes." Meghan sneered with a mouth full of ice cream. It was so effortless with them. It made Meghan ill with how sweet it was.

"Why?" Gracelyn looked over at her, spoon hanging out of her mouth. She pulled it out and spoke through the glob of frozen milk. "What'd we do?"

"You two are too perfect." Meghan replied and took another bite from Garcia. She threw her spoon into the carton and laid it against her chest. "It's sickeningly adorable."

"Aw Megs," Gracelyn leaned her head back against Elijah and grinned at Meghan, "your little green monster is coming out."

"Is not." Meghan scoffed and looked at the television. It was the same story over and over again with different names and scenery. "Can we put something more interesting on?"

"You **are** jealous." Gracelyn quipped with the grin firmly plastered to her face. Meghan looked to her and glared.

"Am **not**." She insisted and looked to Elijah. His eyes were glued to the television. "Hey, lover boy, did you hear me?"

"You so are." Gracelyn continued and took a bite of her ice cream. Meghan's gaze returned to Gracelyn. She swung her legs and sat up right in the armchair.

"Am not."

"Are to."

"Am NOT."

"Are TO."

"Am** NOT."**

**"**Are **TO**."

"**AM N**-"

Suddenly, something piercing rang out in the night. It entered the room from the open window on the wall nearest the couch. Gracelyn and Meghan stared at each other, seeming to be frozen in their places. Neither knew what to say. Their heads turned and eyes locked on the window.

"Was that a scream?" Gracelyn finally asked and looked up at Elijah. He looked down at her a moment and then returned his gaze to the window.

"I don't know." He replied, eyes darting back and forth over the window as though the answer would appear on the screen.

"If it was, then it's probably some skank that got piss ass drunk and is roaming the yard looking for the idiot who promised to make all her dreams come true if she followed him home." Meghan rationalized, seeming unconcerned with each passing moment. They were, after all, only across the street from the college campus.

"Yeah, you're probably ri-"

Another scream entered the room. This time it was closer, louder and more pronounced. The scream held a message, but the words were unclear.

Gracelyn sat up and threw her spoon into her carton. She set it on the coffee table and looked to the window. The drapes swayed gently in the breeze that came in. She stood up after another moment and moved to the window, bare feet padding faintly against the carpet. She peered out into the night that was afire with moonlight.

"See the hoe stumblin' around?" Meghan asked and placed her carton on the side table beside the armchair. Gracelyn shook her head and continued to search. She scratched her right arm and then turned from the window. She looked to Meghan and then to Elijah, who both waited for her report.

"I think she's gone." Gracelyn announced and began her walk back to the couch. She froze at the echoing of another shrill scream.

"Someone help me!" The scream returned and this time the message was clear. Gracelyn rushed back to the window and looked out. Gracelyn couldn't see her or tell where the voice came from. "Help! Please!"

Elijah came up beside her and pulled back the drape, peering out. Meghan walked up to the other side of Gracelyn and looked over her shoulder.

"Please!" The girl screamed, hidden in the shadows of the night. Her voice echoed throughout the apartment complex. "Someone help!"

"Bitch! Shut the Hell up!" Meghan screamed back.

"Meghan…!" Gracelyn scolded and glared at her. She turned from the window and headed to the door of her apartment.

"Where are you going?" Elijah asked and headed her off. She looked up at him almost incredulously.

"Are you kidding me?" She asked rhetorically and took hold of the doorknob. "Someone needs to help her. What if she's being raped? Or murdered? What if those stupid cannibals got her?"

"Stop, alright? I'll go see what's wrong. You stay here with Meghan." Elijah ordered gently and pushed her hand from the knob. He opened the door and stepped into the hall. Gracelyn stepped out behind him and caught his hand before he could walk any further. He turned and looked at her, knowing she was frightened. He moved closer to her, placed a hand to her cheek and kissed her forehead. "I'll be alright. Go back inside."

Gracelyn nodded her head and watched him head to the stairs barefoot. He disappeared into the night through the glass doors of the building, leaving Gracelyn to gnaw on her thumb nail in the hall.

_I have nothing left…_

_…and all I feel is this cruel wanting…_

_We've been falling for all this time…_

_…and now **I'm lost** **in paradise**…_

A minute went by and then another and another. The silence was deafening. The waiting was insufferable. The unknown was eating at Gracelyn.

"Gracelyn? Where did you go?" Meghan called from the apartment, but Gracelyn was already heading down the stairs. She stopped by the door and peered out into the yard. She couldn't see anything except trees and the streetlights. She pushed the door open slowly and stepped out into the cool darkness. She wrapped her arms around herself to guard against the cool breeze.

She looked around at the buildings that lined the yard. The apartment building complex was set up like a 'U'. In the middle of the 'U' was a yard filled with trees, paths, benches, and plenty of places to hide. The streetlights did nothing to help. Lights were on in the other  
buildings, windows open, but the silence made it seem as though no one was home.

Gracelyn walked along the cobble stone path through the small yard to the sidewalk. She looked along the street and then followed the sidewalk around the building.

"Elijah?" She called out and looked for him. He had seemed to disappear into the night like the girl that had called out for help. Gracelyn walked along the side walk to the front of the building. She looked up and spotted Meghan in the window.

"What the Hell are you doing?" Meghan shouted out to her, staring down at her from the safety and warmth of the apartment. "Get your ass back up here! Are you crazy?!"

"Which way did he go?" Gracelyn called up. "I just want to know he's okay."

"Well, he didn't come this way." She answered, drawing Gracelyn's eyes to the direction she had come. She headed back along the sidewalk to the yard.

"Elijah?" Gracelyn called out and walked along the path. She walked into the miniature forest and peered through the trees. His dark clothing would do nothing to help her spot him. "Babe, where are you?"

A bush rustled to her right. Gracelyn froze. She watched the darkness, unable to see what was causing the bush distress.

"Elijah?" She called gently, swallowing hard. Meghan walked out from the darkness, pulling a leaf from her hair. "You scared the crap out of me."

"Good." Meghan retorted and glared at her. "Of course you would have us tramping around in the woods barefoot on your birthday, looking for some crazed bitch that's high off her ass. Have you found lover boy yet?"

"Does it look like I have?" Gracelyn sneered and shook her head, looking further up the path. All she could see were trees and darkness. "What if whatever the girl was screaming about got him? What if someone kidnapped him? …or worse, what if it was one of those cannibals from Chapel Hill?"

"Would you quit it?" Meghan snapped and followed her gaze. She shook her head at the situation. Gracelyn was making it worse. She was worrying for nothing. Meghan rolled her eyes, placed her hands on her hips and was determined to prove to Gracelyn that everything was fine.

"Elijah! Quit playing Rambo and get your boney ass out of the trees! You're girlfriend is starting to freak the fuck out!" Meghan shouted, but there came no reply. Meghan's eyes scanned the trees around her and Gracelyn, waiting for a response of some kind. A knot formed in her chest. She licked her lips and took a few steps forward.

"Elijah, this isn't funny!" Gracelyn shouted and moved up to Meghan's side.

"Yeah! We're fucking barefoot and it's cold!" Meghan called out and wrapped her arms around herself.

Again: no response.

Gracelyn looked to Meghan, fear filling her eyes. She then looked back down the path. Her eyes began to dart left and right. Something moved in the trees, staggering through the darkness. The moonlight that shone through the branches and leaves did nothing to help identify the shadow.

"Elijah, is that you?!" Gracelyn shouted at the shadow as it continued to move along. No response came back, only the snapping of sticks and the crunching of fallen leaves. Gracelyn looked to Meghan, asking her silently whether they should approach or not. Meghan widened her eyes, annoyance clearly visible in them and vigorously shook her head. Gracelyn avoided Meghan's grasp and hurried down the path towards the moving specter.

"Baby?" She called gently and slowed her pace. It was definitely a man in the darkness with their back to Gracelyn. She couldn't make out whom though. They stood, wavering back and forth as though sleepwalking. "Elijah, is that you? This isn't funny anymore. You're scaring me."

_Run away…_

_Run away…_

_…one day we won't feel this pain anymore…_

Meghan walked up behind Gracelyn. She took hold of her arm, lacing it with her own and stared at the person in the dark. Gracelyn placed a hand on Meghan's arm and slowly took a step forward together.

"Elijah?" She called softly, a knot formed in her chest and her throat began to constrict. She let go of Meghan and struggled out of her hold, moving closer. She outstretched a hand towards the figure. He was Elijah's height, his build, but something was wrong. Her hand shook as it neared their shoulder. "Baby?"

"Grace, get away from that thing!" Elijah's voice boomed out from the darkness. She caught sight of him sprinting towards her and Meghan from the left. Her eyes moved back to the person before her. They slowly began to turn around and Gracelyn screamed, catching sight of their face. It was mangled and bloodied.

"What the Hell…?!" Gracelyn backed away, but not fast enough. The man lurched at her, grabbing hold of her wrists and opened his mouth to release the smell of decay. She struggled against him as he tried to bite her. "Elijah!"

Elijah tackled the man to the ground. He quickly scrambled to his feet and grabbed hold of Gracelyn's wrist. He tugged her along behind him and ran passed Meghan, who picked up the rear. Gracelyn caught movement in the trees and looked.

"Oh my God!" She cried as she spotted more of the lumbering figures.

"Keep moving!" Elijah ordered, tugging her up to his side.

"Hey! Wait up!" Meghan called out, catching Gracelyn's attention. She looked back and saw Meghan trip, clambering to the cement path. Her eyes spotted the figures move out from the trees and onto the path behind Meghan. One grabbed hold of her ankle. Another found her hair.

"Meghan!" Gracelyn shouted and pulled out of Elijah's grasp. She ran as quickly as she could, but someone caught her. They wrapped their arms tightly around her abdomen and pulled her back. "Meghan! No! Let go! Let go of me!"

Meghan screamed as a woman, who was missing a portion from her cheek and her bottom lip entirely, bit into her calf. The man who held her hair bit into her shoulder, ripping out a chunk of flesh. They were eating her alive.

"Meghan! Help her! Please, someone help her!" Gracelyn cried out with arms outstretched, struggling against the hold on her. The person's arms tightened and began to pull her away from the scene. They turned them, their large stature blocking Meghan from sight. They passed another man, dressed in black from head to foot with a gun in his hand. He waited for Gracelyn to pass and then lifted the gun, taking a single shot.

"MEGHAN!"

_Take it all away…_

_Shadows of you…_

**_…because they won't let me go…_**

"Gracelyn?" A voice called out to her. Her head felt heavy, mind light though. Her vision focused in and out; hazy and then clear, but it was all too fast to make out anything before her. Someone placed a hand to her cheek, trying to cease the bobbing of her head to a minimum. They held her head firmly, forcing her to look at them. She could see a golden blur on top of army green. "Gracie, are you okay? Can you hear me?"

"Is she alright?" A new voice spoke up; smooth. It was familiar, but she couldn't place it. "It's been several hours."

"She's in shock." The first voice answered. It was deep and rough, almost like they had been a smoker many years ago. She knew this man. It was Liam; her older brother.

"Of course she is. She watched her best friend being eaten alive by a couple of psychos." Gracelyn recognized Elijah's rich tone. She tried to focus her vision, see where he was, but she couldn't. Everything felt surreal. "And it didn't help that you shot her in cold blood with her standing there."

"Would you calm down, Eli?" The smooth voice replied with an edge. "Do you hear those things outside? Do you hear the screams? Meghan was bitten. She was going to turn into one of them if I didn't."

"Going to turn into what?" Gracelyn murmured out and closed her eyes, trying to pull herself together.

"Lyn?" She knew the second voice now.

"Turn into what Kenneth?" She asked as her eyes burned with new tears. Kenneth looked to the other men, unsure what to say. Liam kept his hand planted firmly to Gracelyn's cheek and finger to the back of her head and thumb before her ear. He looked up at Kenneth and sighed.

"You know 'what' Gracie." Liam replied slowly. "Think about it. They smell like decay. They stagger when they walk. They're eating people."

Gracelyn's face contorted as a cry welled up within her. She let it out softly, tearing running down her face.

"But it can't be." She denied. "Zombies aren't real."

"They are, Lyn." Kenneth assured her and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked to Elijah, who stared down at Gracelyn with wide eyes. He looked at the man, who had been dating his little sister for over two years. He looked him up and down once, noticing his upper arm. He could barely make out what was there, hidden beneath the short sleeve.

Liam moved and sat down beside Gracelyn, back to the wall of the hallway they resided in. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, holding her tightly.

"This isn't happening… it can't be… it's just some nightmare…" Gracelyn cried, hands coming up to grip Liam's forearm that lay across her bent knees.

"It is happening. It's real, Gracie." He confirmed and placed his lips to her hair, cradling her head against him.

"How?" She asked as more tears ran down her cheeks. She opened her eyes and looked up at Kenneth and Elijah. "How is this real? **How** can this be happening?"

"I don't know." Kenneth started and shook his head. "No one does. It was so sudden and it spread so fast that-"

"Spread?" Gracelyn questioned quickly. She lifted her head from Liam's shoulder and stared up at Kenneth, almost accusingly. "From where? How far? The entire state?"

Kenneth and Liam looked at each other, asking each other a silent question. Gracelyn looked between them, feeling the hesitancy.

"How far has it spread?" She demanded, quickly becoming angered. She looked between the two again as she pulled away from Liam. "How far?!"

"We don't know." Kenneth answered finally and ran a gloved hand up and down the back of his head, mussing his short hair. "Maybe it's isolated. Or it could be the entire country or even the entire world for all we know. No one knows where it started or just how far it stretches. It's been happening all over for months now. It just keeps spreading."

"Mom and dad?" Gracelyn stared out at nothing and leaned her head back against Liam.

"We came here first." Liam answered gently, looking up at Kenneth for reassurance that they had made the right call. They had a choice: Gracelyn or their parents. They had been coming from California; Liam from NAS Lemoore and Kenneth from Twentynine Palms. Gracelyn was in North Carolina and their parents were in Florida. "We were planning on grabbing you and then heading to Saint Augustine."

"This… _disease_ or whatever it is, how does it spread?" Elijah asked suddenly and looked to Kenneth. "Airborne? Something in the water? Viral warfare the military cooked up?"

"We don't know if it was the military's doing. But, we've found," Kenneth began and looked down at Liam for a brief moment, "it infects someone through close contact and transfer of bodily fluids."

"Like AIDs?"

"I guess. I'm not a doctor or anything." Kenneth scoffed lightly and looked down at the floor, shaking his head. "But I do know that all it takes is a scratch and you're infected with whatever it is. You die from it and then come back, eating whatever you can get your hands on."

"A scratch…?" Elijah questioned softly to himself. His eyes fell to his upper arm. Liam and Kenneth noticed and looked back at one another. Elijah moved a hand to his arm and held the place where he had been looking at.

"Elijah, are you infected?" Liam questioned, slowly pushing Gracelyn away from him. He stood up; both he and Kenneth towered over the other six-foot male. They didn't hold themselves as superior though or as the alpha. Liam reached out and took hold of Elijah's sleeve. He pulled it up and saw the long, angry scratches on his shoulder. His eyes moved to Elijah's, both exchanging silent words; sympathy and fear.

"No." Gracelyn spoke up and picked herself up from the floor. She shook her head and moved in front of Elijah. "No, h-he's not."

"Gracie," Liam began, but Gracelyn's hard stared stopped him from continuing. She wrapped her arms around Elijah.

"No. He's fine." Her bottom lip trembled as tears welled up in her eyes. Both Kenneth and Liam looked at the couple with pity. Elijah wrapped his arms around Gracelyn, holding her tightly to him. He kissed her hair, tears beginning to blur his sight. He looked to his right and moved his eyes between Liam and Kenneth.

"You're fine, Elijah." Gracelyn cried into his chest softly. "There's nothing wrong with you. You're fine."

_Until I have nothing left…_

_…and all I feel is this cruel wanting…_

"How long does it take?" Elijah questioned gently as his hands moved soothingly over Gracelyn's back. Gracelyn let out a small sob, hiding her face in his shirt.

"It's different for everyone." Liam answered, crossing his muscular arms across his chest. "Could be any minute; could be a couple of days. We… just don't know."

"It could be never." Gracelyn pulled her face form his shirt and looked at her older brothers. "You don't know. He might **not** change."

"Lyn," Kenneth started and shook his head slowly. "He's going to change. There's no way to stop it."

"No!"

_We've been falling **for all this time**…_

_…and now **I'm lost** in paradise…_

"We have to do something, Gracie." Liam began again, having never moved from his spot. Kenneth paced with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You're right. You have to help him." Gracelyn pleaded, looking between her brothers. She grasped Elijah's shirt tightly in her hands. She had yet to let him go, afraid of what her brothers would do if she did. "You have to. I can't lose him."

"There isn't a cure." Kenneth explained and Liam reached down to his hip where his gun sat. Her eyes went to it and she released a sob, tears streaking down her cheeks. "We don't have any other options, Lyn. He's going to become one of them."

Gracelyn shook her head and glanced up at Elijah. He stared down at her, tears trailing down his face silently.

"No." She implored, quickly losing her composure. Elijah wrapped his arms around her tightly again and pulled her flush against him. She sobbed and he cried softly, holding her as though she would fall to the floor if he didn't. They pulled back and he rested his forehead against hers.

"It'll be alright," Elijah whispered to her and licked his lips, swallowing the hard lump in his throat. He kissed her lips and pulled away when she began to cry again. He brushed her hair back from her face and cupped her cheeks in his hands, "Everything's going to be alright, sweetheart. You're going to be fine."

"I'm so sorry, Gracie." Liam pulled the gun from his hip and flipped the safety off. She sobbed and gripped Elijah's shirt with all her might.

"We have to, Lyn." Kenneth breathed out, sorrow filling his voice. Gracelyn pulled her face from Elijah's shirt and looked up at him.

"Please… I love him…"

_Alone…_

_…and lost in paradise…_

"…please…"

"I love you, Grace…"

…a single shot rang out…


	21. Chapter 20

**Song:** Bang, Bang, Bang

**Artist:** Christina Perri

Alright, here is chapter 20 for all my Milton whores! I'll post a new chapter when I get back on May 11th.

Ciao,

Winnie

* * *

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Twenty**

Gracelyn twitched in her bed as sleep slowly waned from her. She could hear herself breathing, breath against sheets as she waffled between sleeping and waking. Her mind slowly pulled towards sleep and filled with the sound of shrill, high pitched screaming: the screaming of a girl.

_A dream_, she thought, _it's only a dream. It's not real._

_"No! Please, you can't! You can't do this!"_

_I'm so sorry Gracie…"_

_"This can't be happening…"_

_"We don't have any other options, Lyn..."_

_"Zombies aren't real..."_

_"But they are…"_

_"This is just some nightmare…"_

Gracelyn turned over in bed and pulled the covers over her head, hiding in their warmth. She took a deep breath and released it with a yawn, snuggling into the darkness. She tried to forget, to move on, but then there came another shrill scream and then another.

Gracelyn's eyes burst open with a start as her heart nearly sprung free from her ribcage. She bolted upright in bed with mussed hair and hastily looked about her room for a source of the scream. She wasn't in her apartment back at Duke. She was in Woodbury in her small room with her scratchy sheets and hard mattress.

She looked to the window and then clambered out of bed, getting caught in the sheets and tumbling to the floor in a heap. She crawled on her hands and knees to the window. She placed her hands on the ledge and stared outside.

The streets were filled with people. Everyone was outside in the street, on the sidewalks, in grassy areas. They stood in groups with colored cups in their hands, sipping on the contents. Umbrellas were set up in the grass areas; fold out chairs, coolers, bubbles, even music was playing from somewhere Gracelyn couldn't pinpoint. She narrowed her eyes, expression conveying her feeling of surprise.

She spotted a little girl running through the streets, pursued by a little boy with a cup in his chubby hand. She stopped, looked back at the boy and then took off again from him while she screamed. Gracelyn suddenly realized that **she** was the source of the alarm.

Gracelyn turned away from the window and sat down on the ground. The sun beat down on her neck uncomfortably. She looked to her bed and scowled, seeing the mess she had made trying to escape their grip. That sleep had been one of her worse ones lately. Every night the darkness was slowly creeping closer, threatening to swallow her whole.

She knocked her head gently against the glass of the window. She then tilted her head back and allowed the sunlight to wash over her face, bathing her in warmth and light.

It had been a few days since she had met Andrea and Michonne; a few days since she had been confronted by Philip about her brothers again. A few days since the nightmares had returned because of Philip's insistent pushing. They were the same one: over and over and over again. It kept her locked in her room most of the mornings; kept her up most nights.

Philip had hoped she would sing a different tune that day, but it had been the same since the night her brothers had _vanished_ out of thin air. He had been right though. She was no soldier. But Kenneth had been right too. She was a Luan and Luan's were fighters by nature. Especially after they were taught to fight, to **survive **in this world they now called home. She also did know a few of their tricks. After all, how could she not? Since that fateful night at Duke they hadn't left her side and she hadn't left theirs.

Gracelyn wiggled her nose, feeling a tickle. She sighed heavily. Merle had never returned to her room to sleep on the floor. So, she had been sleeping in the armchair in Milton's lab at night only to magically wake up in her bed the next morning. She had yet to question why she was moved and who had done it. She couldn't imagine Milton being the one to carry her all that way and up her flight of stairs. He had only just become accustomed to her being in the lab so much again. He would have to willingly touch her to carry her. The only other option was Merle, but Gracelyn had yet to see him since he had come back into town. She heard his name, his voice, but never the white's of his eyes. So, why would he bother to carry her home only to disappear from sight?

Either way, it didn't matter. Gracelyn had once learned to fight her demons alone in the dead of night and she could do it again. She would put on a face, appearing as though she was returning back to normal. No more walking around with a rifle around her neck. No more numb, hard expression on her face. No more 'Lyn', who had been molded by Kenneth. No more 'Gracie'; the giggling, oblivious, naïve girl that had found refuge with her eldest brother Liam.

Just Gracelyn: the real Gracelyn. It was the girl her brother had thought to have died that night with Elijah. They believed she had to in order to survive. Gracelyn was the girl who had found love and had lost it in something so horrific that she couldn't allow herself to fall in love again: not in this world. It would only be as tragic as the last and hurt twice as much.

_Gracelyn_ had been avoiding Philip like the plague, but not because he scared her. She knew that she and Philip were a ticking time bomb. They were like two magnets with the same charge being pushed together. The closer they were forced together the greater the resistance. If she wanted to stay, and she truly did, then she needed to keep herself in check when Philip was close by.

However, Philip's words that had once struck Gracie and Lyn with fear and doubt of herself now just pissed Gracelyn off. Telling her she wasn't as _strong_ as her brothers; that she couldn't _fight _like her brothers; that she couldn't **survive** in _their_ world… Well, that was utterly unacceptable. She was every bit as good as them. She had been through just as much as them. She wasn't the fragile, feeble-minded little sister that needed her big, strong older brothers to rescue her whenever something went wrong. She could take care of herself now. She could fight and shoot and she could** survive** all on her own in _their_ world. She was every bit as good as her brothers; every bit as capable. That world Philip claimed belonging to Liam and Kenneth exclusively, well… while she may not belong in it, that world belonged to her. She had long since been a part of it before everything went to Hell and she would be damned if she would let some pig-headed, arrogant ass tell her otherwise.

Philip didn't know the chain of reactions he had started. The more you told Gracelyn she's not good enough, that she can't do something, that she's doesn't know the horror in the world: the madder she got. The madder she got, the more determined to prove otherwise she became. The more determined she became, the more distant she would grow to be. The more distant she grew to be… you should really be concerned; very concerned.

For you see, Gracelyn Luan is a very sociable creature and her backing off is not a sign of victory. It is a sign that you should have just walked away. It is a sign that you were now lost in uncharted waters and here, there be dragons; dragons that breathed fire and ate whomever challenged them alive.

By this time in the chain reaction, Gracelyn was formulating a plan. When she suddenly appears and decides to cooperate with every demand without question: game over. By that point, it is too late to decide that you should **really** let that particular sleeping dragon lie. That dragon is wide awake and it is seeing _all_ shades of red. Liam and Kenneth had seen it many times and Philip was on the verge of seeing it. Gracelyn was merely buying time now. She needed to be _clever,_ as Philip had once put it, about what she was planning; scheming. Everything needed to be perfect.

Gracelyn sat there a moment more on the ground and then pulled herself to her feet. If she didn't move now, she would be lost to sleep again. She walked into the bathroom and closed the door. She looked at herself in the mirror and blinked, trying to see through the smudges of make-up. She scowled at herself, plucked out a tissue from the box on the back of the toilet and tried to remedy the situation. When she was finished, she headed to the shower and turned on the water.

It was a wonder she had still yet to become accustomed to; warm, running water. It was a small miracle that touched her in a big way. It had all been mud and lakes and streams before Woodbury; sleeping on the cold, hard ground; worrying morning, noon and night whether or not today would be hers and her brothers' last.

She hated Philip, but he was right. She wanted Woodbury; the dream.

"All my life you know I haven't been very love strong. There's been so many fights that I fought and I never won. So I decided that I should just give up in trying to right your wrong. And word on the street is she did to you what you did to me." She sang as she massaged the cherry blossom shampoo into her hair. She used it as a gel almost and styled her hair in funny ways. "5, 4, 3, 2, 1… Bang! Bang! Bang, Boy! Your goin' down, down, down, Boy. To the ground where you left my heart to bleed. _Bang_, she shot you. Karma tastes so sweet."

She froze beneath the running water. She hadn't thought carefully about what she was singing. She had meant it to be Philip shot dead, but she only saw Elijah's face. She only saw the gun in Liam's hand raised and pointed at her love's head. She only heard the shot.

Gracelyn suddenly fell to the floor of the shower on her knees and let out a loud sob. She gripped the wall, trying to find support. She cried and cried until the water ran cold and then cried some more. All the pain, all the sorrow coursed through her like a drug gone wrong.

When she finally turned off the water and stepped out, she had no more tears to shed. She pulled a towel around her and began to dry her hair with a hand towel. She walked out of the bathroom and dressed in a spaghetti strapped sundress colored white, blue and brown with flowers and vines designed into it. She pulled on her sandals and then clipped her hair back at each side, allowing the rest and her bangs to dangle freely. She tugged on her lashes with the mascara that she could tell was nearly empty and then lined her eyes with a new pencil Jolene had found for her.

She looked herself over in the mirror, smoothing the dress with her hands like an iron. The taffeta beneath made the dress look puffy from beneath the breasts down. Gracelyn rolled her eyes at the way she looked; like some girl from the fifties. She could hear what Meghan would have said had she been standing there with her.

_"Those greasers won't know what hit 'em when they get a look at you, Peggy-Sue. They'll surely wish they were born a soc when they see you jive."_

Gracelyn tried to smile, but she just couldn't seem to do it. She struggled and forced it out of her with all her strength and then walked out of her room. She headed down the stairs and out into the festivities, unaware of what awaited her.

She had never seen anything like it before in town. People were smiling- no, they were **grinning **- and laughing. Kids were playing, chasing each other, blowing bubbles into the air, and kicking soccer balls around. Somewhere a dog barked. Gracelyn wondered briefly if she were still asleep.

"Amazin' ain't it Barbie?" Merle walked up beside Gracelyn and stood at her side, looking around at the people who appeared out of place in the current world.

"You could say that." She replied, unable to tear her gaze away from the sight. "So, you're talking to me now?"

"Whatchu talkin' 'bout?" He looked down at her. She refused to look back at him now. She was a little hurt by him. She knew it was foolish, childish and a whole mess of other words ending in '-ish', but she still felt them.

"When I first got back into town it was late. So, I went ta yer room, but yous wasn't there. Found ya in Mildred's lab." He explained and looked around at everyone that passed them by. "Despite his grippin', I carried ya home. Put ya ta bed."

"Ah-ha. So, it **was** you." She remarked simply.

"Yeah, it was me."

"Why?"

"This is what I get fer bein' nice? Hell, remind me neva ta do it again."

"I was just curious. Don't get your panties in a twist Marlene." Gracelyn joked and shook her head, looking away from him. "Thank you. I appreciate it. Actually, I appreciate _everything_ you've been doing for me, Merle. Really, I don't know how I would have survived here without you and Milton."

Gracelyn crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious about her words. She glanced at him, noticed him turning his head to look at her, and looked back at the festivities.

"It wasn't right what yer brothers did." Merle declared softly, voice steady. Gracelyn stared down at the ground beneath her feet like a child who had been caught dipping into the cookie jar before dinner.

"I know... I can't ever apologize enough to Christy about Lukas. And poor Harold… he was real sweet to me." Gracelyn sighed a heavy, downtrodden sigh as she tried to make sense of it all.

"Yeah, that was all horrible, but it wasn't what I was talkin' 'bout." Merle clarified and looked down at her. "I meant what they did to you. Just leavin' you here by yourself and takin' off without even a goodbye."

Merle shook his head and looked away.

"Fuckin' selfish cowards." He scoffed. Gracelyn said nothing because she felt a similar way. She understood that if it had been them, that they had done it all for her. They had left her there because it was the best thing for her. They hadn't told her they were leaving because she would only follow.

"If I had known what they were planning on doing…" She started and then fell short. She shook her head and stared down at the ground.

"Would you have stopped 'em?" Merle didn't look at her. He couldn't. This conversation was hitting too close to home for him. Gracelyn licked her lips and gnawed on the bottom one.

"I'd like to think so." She replied and looked up at him. "But I don't think I could. They're my older brothers. I've always look up to them. I always will."

Merle nodded his head and the two fell into silence. They both watched the people walking around and enjoying themselves.

"So, what's going on today anyway?" Gracelyn finally asked, unable to live with the unknowing any longer.

"Oh, nuttin much. Just some first rate, hippie, feel good bullshit."

"Wow, Merle." Gracelyn, without warning, let out a loud heartfelt laugh. "Tell me what you really feel why don't you?"

"You think this is _groovy _wait till tonight. That's when the real party goes down." Merle explained and crossed his arms over his chest the best he could. Gracelyn glimpsed at him for a second, arching an eyebrow. He ignored her look and nodded his head towards a table where drinks were being given out. "Till then, I'd stay away from that punch if I were you. Unless you've been plannin' on checkin' out early."

Gracelyn laughed, understanding his reference, and looked back out at the people. Merle smirked and gave her a small nudge, nodding his head to the right. Gracelyn followed beside him on the sidewalk, looking around at everything that was going on.

It was amazing. It felt like nothing had changed. This place was the one place on earth left untouched by all the darkness outside the walls.

Gracelyn watched as a soccer ball ran in front of them. Merle jogged after it a few paces and stopped it with a foot. He looked to the owner, a little girl who waited with a smile, and kicked it to her gently. She chased after it and Merle walked back to Gracelyn's side, smile on his lips and a laugh in his eye.

"Didn't know the great Merle Dixon had a soft spot for kids." Gracelyn commented with a playful smile as she looked up at him, squinting against the sun. It was easy with Merle. He was rude and vulgar sometimes, but he was genuine about what he said and what he did; no holding back. Gracelyn needed that right now. "Or for taking sleeping women to bed."

Gracelyn halted, looked up at nothing in the sky as her words sunk in.

"No pun intended." She finally announced, realizing where Merle's mind would take the conversation. He laughed and shook his head, squinting against the sun in his eyes.

"There's a lot a things you don't know 'bout me, Barbie." Merle replied, something in his eyes betrayed the smirk he sent her way.

"I believe it." She smiled gently and walked beside him again. "You're so secretive. How come you don't talk about yourself?"

They paused. Gracelyn looked up at him as he stared down at her.

"You know, before all of this?" She encouraged, but he looked away and observed the festivities.

"What's there ta talk 'bout?" He clicked his tongue, refusing to look at her. Gracelyn licked her lips and watched him carefully. He was a master at hiding his true feelings.

"Who were you before all of this?" She asked simply and waited. Merle's expression never changed. It was blank as his eyes scanned over the people walking and talking around them. "Fine. I'll start guessing. Um… mechanic?"

Nothing.

"Okay, how about… truck driver?"

Again nothing.

"Farmer?"

"Farm'a? You serious?" He scorned and looked down at her. She raised her hands and shrugged. "Could you see me drivin' a tract'a and harvestin' crops?"

"Yeah actually I can." She commented with a serious face. Merle scoffed and shook his head, turning away. "Well, you're not helping. Don't I get a hint? Can I phone a friend?"

"You can phone all the friends you want. I doubt any of them are gonna be answerin'." Merle gave a small laugh and looked back out at the people as though he were guarding them from some unknown horror about to happen. Gracelyn took a good, long stare at him and knitted her eyebrows together in thought.

"Military?" She asked finally, but he shook his head and spit from the corner of his mouth. "Okay, that was gross… What about a cop?"

"Hell no."

"Ah, a criminal then." She earned a look from him. Her eyes darted between his, noticing the hardened expression. He had hid it well, but it was there and Gracelyn could interpret it fluently. "… a convicted criminal."

"You thirsty, Barbie?" He asked unexpectedly and finally looked away from her. Gracelyn realized she had put her foot in her mouth and nodded her head quietly. Merle walked away towards a table that was set up a few feet away beneath a canvas canopy. On it sat several glasses filled with liquids of different colors. Gracelyn looked away, trusting Merle to choose something non-alcoholic for her, and watched everyone in the streets.

Her eyes landed on Milton, who stood before another table set up with drink and her lips tugged into a bright smile. She went to wave to him, had a hand slightly raised and everything, but stopped when she saw Milton walk away from the table with two drinks. He headed straight for another blonde; Andrea. He handed her the drink and they began to talk, his lips curling into a smile.

"Well, well, well," Merle walked up beside Gracelyn with two cups in his one good hand. He held the drinks out, neither of them looking at the drinks, and she took it with nimble fingers. "Never would have thought Mildred had the nerve."

"Yeah, me neither." A stone settled in the pit of Gracelyn's stomach, weighing her down. Her heart felt heavy even. She transferred her drink to her other hand and then took Merle's.

"Hey, hey, hey, that's straight bourbon there, Barbie. Careful." Merle warned quickly, watching her as she raised the glass to her lips, but it was too late. Gracelyn had down the full cup in one… two… three gulps. She smacked her lips, eyes never leaving Milton and Andrea; Andrea who was laughing at something Milton had said. Her teeth ground against each other slowly.

Merle looked down at Gracelyn and then his eyes glanced at Milton. Andrea pushed her hair from her neck and placed her glass to her skin to cool herself off. Merle inwardly scowled and then looked back at Gracelyn again, who was crushing the red solo cup to dust. Realization hit him, making him groan in aggrievance.

"How's 'bout I get you another?" He offered and walked away towards the table again. He didn't need her reply. He knew she needed it and he needed one himself. The whole festival scene was making him sick.

Milton said something to Andrea and then began to walk away. He smiled to people as he passed, drink hardly drunk in his hand. He liked parties… sort of. He always felt so out of place at them. He was the one who stood by the food, watching everyone else having a good time while he nibbled on hors d'œuvres.

His eyes searched for someone he knew he could enjoy the party with; the one person who seemed to 'get' him. His eyes fell on Gracelyn. She stood by herself, looking around as people walked by her. She gently raised a hand and brushed her bangs out of her eyes as a breeze blew by. She looked as uncomfortable as he felt, as out of place as he was.

Milton smiled, finished his drink and then headed straight for her. Several children ran in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. He smiled at them as they ran after the golden retriever. He watched them disappear into the sea of people and began towards Gracelyn. He stopped suddenly as Merle walked up beside her.

She turned to him and took the drink he held out for her. She smiled gently, almost sorrowfully as she said something to him. Her eyes met his reluctantly and then looked away again, shaking her head as she said something more. Merle listened quietly and nodded his head very slowly as though understanding completely what she was saying; whatever it was. He then wrapped his arm around her shoulders and then led her away, whispering something in her ear.

"I've been having nightmares." Gracelyn had said as Merle handed her a drink. She smiled gently, but sorrowfully. "Of everything that happened before all of this, at the very beginning when the world didn't know it was burning yet."

She looked to Merle for a brief moment and then looked away, shaking her head.

"I had to watch my brothers kill my best friend and then see Elijah, my fiancé…" She halted. She couldn't finish it. She couldn't admit it. Merle wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a small squeeze.

_"I know, Barbie. You talk about him a lot in yer sleep._" Merle breathed in Gracelyn's ear as he led her towards Martinez, Bowman and Jacobsen. _"I'm sure he understands. Don't punish yerself for somethin' you have no control ov'a."_

Gracelyn only listened to him as he tried to comfort her. She was glad when his attention was stolen by Bowman.

She stayed there with the men for a while, looking over her shoulders now and then to watch everyone walking around socializing with one another. It had been an hour since she had seen Milton and she had searched, inconspicuously, everywhere for him.

All of a sudden, everyone started making their way towards the courthouse. Gracelyn followed them with her eyes as they passed by her and the small group of men she was with.

"What's going on?" She asked and looked to Merle, who was also watching as everyone stood in the yard of the courthouse.

"Prob'ly the Gov'na wants ta make a speech. More feel good bullshit or somethin'." He replied and took a sip of his drink, smacking his lips when he pulled it away. "We should prob'ly go see."

Gracelyn nodded her head and followed beside him towards the courthouse. She kept to the back with Merle, rising to the balls of her feet to try and see passed Bowman and Jacobsen. Philip stood on the porch of the courthouse, slightly elevated above 'his people', and staring down at them.

"The first time we gathered there were nine of us hold up an apartment livin' off spam an saltine crackers. Well, look at us now." Philip's lips curled into a bright smile. He placed a hand on his left hip and looked down at them all. "We built a place we can call home."

Somehow, Gracelyn felt like that was a jab at her; another prodding from the great 'Governor' of Woodbury.

"It may be held together with duck tap and string, but it works. It's ours. I'll take it. So today, we celebrate how far we've come. We remember those we've lost. We raise a glass," He raised the yellow glass in his hand up and waits for everyone else to follow. Gracelyn refused and only stared at him with a hard eye. "To us!"

Everyone cheered and clapped and drank. Gracelyn only looked around at them and shook her head silently. She walked away from the excitement and headed up the road towards the park. She walked past the see-saw and the sandbox with her eyes cast down firmly at the ground beneath her feet. She went to the swings and passed through them towards the alley. She crossed her arms over her chest and walked behind the buildings, sneaking into her favorite spot.

She laced her fingers through the chain-links and leaned her forehead against the cool metal. She stared out at the frozen nightmare. She let herself lean back, allowing her arms to stretch and shoulders to pop. She closed her eyes and turned her face towards the sky and the sunlight. She smiled softly and then felt the tears begin.

She pulled herself back up and leaned her head against the fence again. She sniffled as a tear escaped down her cheek. Her hands gripped the chain-links firmer, knuckles turning white. She gritted her teeth and slowly fell to her knees as the grief washed over her. Her hands fell from the fence and wrapped around her as she tried to let go of all the pain, the sorrow. She was able to push it down like all the other times. She had to. She needed to hold on a little longer; keep herself together a little while longer.

Gracelyn opened her eyes and stared down at the dirt beneath her. She took a deep breath and sighed, feeling the tension in her chest slowly beginning to dissipate. She took another and then forced herself to stand up. She looked down at her dress and began to try to wipe the dirt away.

She didn't know why she did it. She had never done it before.

She looked towards the brick wall and attached to the building and enclosed her little area. Something small, something blue sat on the ground on the other side of the fence. She slowly approached the object and found that it was an envelope wedged between the wall and the fence.

She instinctively looked around the immediate area as though she would see a messenger. She didn't.

She bent down and plucked it from its place. She stood back up and looked it over, half expecting to find a name or something to identify it. She turned it over and opened it to find paper, folded neatly to fit inside. She removed it, holding the envelope behind the letter. She pulled one flap of the letter up and then the other down. Her eyes drifted from left to write. Slowly at first and then they picked up speed.

They suddenly went wide.

Gracelyn quickly closed the letter and shoved it back into the envelope. Her eyes darted left and right, trying to find the source of the mysterious post. She folded the envelope and thrust it between her breasts, securing it where no one would see it.

No one could see it. No one could read it. No one could know it existed at all. At least… not yet. There was a time and a place and it wasn't now and it wasn't here.

Gracelyn fixed the front of her dress and then headed towards the entrance to the area. She stopped before the alley and looked out at the frozen nightmare of the suburban street. Her eyes searched again for some kind of sign, some kind of anything. All she could see was destruction, desolation and biters.

Gracelyn took a step forward and then another as her eyes became filled with determination and her lips slowly curled into a knowing smile.


	22. Chapter 21

}{ Saving Grace }{

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Gracelyn had wasted no time in getting back to the festivities. It was the safest place for her to be at this point. She knew that Philip didn't trust her. He probably had someone following her every movement. She didn't stop to talk with anyone. She didn't bother to catch anyone's eye, grab a drink, or eat something. She wanted to get back to her room as quickly as possible. She wanted to close the door, lock it and reread the letter in the safety of her own space.

"Be careful!" The shout caused her to spin on her heels. She stared down an alley that led to where they kept the armored vehicles. She looked around the festivities and then ventured down the alley carefully. She looked around the corner and spotted Merle, barking orders at Jacobsen and Martinez.

Gracelyn stepped out from her hiding spot and caught Martinez's eye. He smacked Merle on the side of his arm and nodded his head to Gracelyn's direction.

"Your old lady's checkin' up on you." Martinez's words made Merle turn around. He sighed heavily and quickly walked towards Gracelyn to intercept her. He grabbed her by the arm at the elbow and dragged her back to the alley.

"What are you doing?" She questioned and looked back at the Military truck that was being prepared to leave. "Where are you going?"

"We're makin' a run."

"For what?" Gracelyn asked incredulously as she watched Martinez hand Jacobsen a shotgun.

"For stuff we need." Merle grinned and placed his good hand on his hip where his gun sat. "For the after party festivities."

"What are you talking about?" Gracelyn was half in this conversation. She narrowed her eyes when she saw Milton walking towards the Military truck. "And Milton is going why?"

She looked back at Merle with a hard stare.

"Tryin' to tuffin' him up of course." Merle looked back at Milton. "Ain't that right Mildred?!"

Milton looked over at the two. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Gracelyn looked down at the ground beneath her and licked her lips hastily.

"I'm going with you." She declared, but Merle was quick to respond.

"Oh no, you ain't." He gave an almost harsh laugh and shook his head once. "You're pretty little ass is stayin' here this time. The men got this. Go watch the wall. Better yet, go enjoy the party."

"I can't." She retorted and looked back at his eyes. "Do you realize that both you and Milton will be gone and I will be left alone with _him_. Do you even care?"

"'Course I care!" Merle snapped and stared down at her hard. "I'm the one that's been watchin' you at night, ain't I? Makin' sure no one gets at ya durin' the day. Puttin' ya on the wall with me."

"But you're going to leave me alone now?" Gracelyn's whole demeanor changed. She was… softer all of a sudden. Merle clicked his tongue and looked away angrily.

"Bet yer brothers were wrapped round that pinky a yers too." Merle growled lowly and shook his head. "God dammit… get yer ass in the truck."

Gracelyn smiled victoriously and ran to the Military truck. Martinez watched her as she climbed into the passenger seat and then looked back at Merle, who approached.

"Man, she's got you whipped." Jacobsen laughed, pretending to crack a whip in Merle's direction. Merle glared up at him, making the younger man in the bed of the Military truck shut up instantly.

"The Governor ain't gonna like this." Martinez spoke in a hushed voice. Merle looked to him and then shook his head.

"Don't have much of a choice. She ain't gonna get out of the truck though when we get there." He announced and looked in the side-view mirror, catching Gracelyn's gaze. "You hear me?"

She nodded and mocked a salute to him before leaning back in her seat. Gracelyn didn't bother watching the men finishing up their packing. She was preoccupied with the letter scratching at her breasts. She tugged it out and stared down at the crinkled envelope. She tapped it against her lap and looked out the window. She spotted Milton, who was carrying two poles with cord on the end; the kind you would use to capture a rabid dog.

She looked back at the envelope. She flipped it over and pulled back the flap, gazing at the letter within. She went to pull it out, but the door to her left opened. She quickly folded the envelope and hid it once more in her dress. She looked out her window, trying to play calm and collected while Milton climbed into the seat beside her.

She looked over at him after a moment and examined his clothing. She reached out and touched the sleeve of his shirt.

"Duck tape?" She questioned softly, running her fingers over it.

"It helps." He announced and looked down at his creation. Gracelyn took her hand back and looked at him with an arched eyebrow and a smile.

"With what?" She couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her lips. For some reason, she couldn't stay upset with him. He was too… adorably naïve. Just like a puppy.

"Biters." His answer was so serious that it threw her off.

"What? No way." She laughed again and leaned her head back against the head rest.

"It works." He defended his creation. Gracelyn shook her head and looked at the side-view mirror.

"What are you all doing exactly?" She questioned and watched as Merle yelled something to Jacobsen in the bed of the truck.

"Didn't Merle tell you?" Milton asked and studied her, her dress, her hair. She shook her head, blonde hair spilling over her shoulders.

"Just said you all were going for some new guinea pigs." She replied and turned her head so she could look at him. "So, what new experiments are you running?"

"Uh, well," Milton started, but the driver's door opening hushed him. He looked to Martinez and swallowed hard as though being caught divulging some big secret.

"Move over." Martinez ordered. Milton slid down the bench a little bit. Gracelyn scooted as much as she could against the door, trying to make more room.

"Do you have enough room?" She asked anyone who would answer.

"What the Hell is going on?! Let's go!" Merle snapped from the bed of the truck and smacked the roof.

"Milton, quit being a bitch and move over. Gracelyn ain't gonna bite you." Martinez snapped and gave Milton a shove. His right side rested against Gracelyn firmly. Martinez climbed in and slammed his door shut. Gracelyn made herself as small as possible, uncomfortably squished against the door. Milton squirmed beside her. She looked to him and then the space between them, which was non-existent.

"You okay?" She asked as the truck roared to life. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and nodded his head, lacing his hands in his lap. "Great, but I'm not. Any chance there is like an inch between you and Martinez?"

Milton squirmed, inching to Martinez. Gracelyn was relieved when she was given two inches.

"Thank you." She looked out the windshield and watched as they drove through the gates of the city. It was a bit of a ride to wherever they were heading. She tried to figure it out with land markers. She had never been allowed on a "run" with the boys.

_"You're needed on the wall,"_ was all she ever heard when she protested to go. Philip had something against her leaving. Now she questioned why. What was is he was keeping so far away from town? What was it that he didn't want her to see?

It was nearly a half hour to wherever it was they ended up. Gracelyn barely caught herself when Martinez slammed on the breaks. Milton's arm, which had flung out like a restraint, had kept her from flying into the dashboard.

"Who the Hell taught you to drive?" She snapped as she looked over at the driver. She gripped Milton's arm, which still held itself before her. Martinez turned the truck around and began backing up towards something. Gracelyn looked at the side-view mirror and watched as they approached something she had never seen before.

"Is that a pit?" She questioned and looked over at Milton. He nodded his head and let his arm fall, but Gracelyn kept her hands glued to his duck tapped sleeve. The truck halted again. Martinez hopped out with Milton following close behind. Gracelyn grabbed his hand before he walked away.

"What is going on?" Her voice was soft, but it demanded an answer.

"It's alright. Stay here." He replied and slide from her hold. Gracelyn quickly sat up and moved towards the open door, but it slammed shut just as she was reading to hop out. Merle appeared at the open window.

"Where do you think yer goin'?" He demanded and placed his hand on the top of the door. "I told you that you can come, but yer stayin' right here."

"Merle-"

"No Gracelyn. Just stay." Merle ordered. He took one last look at her and then walked away while shaking his head. Gracelyn watched him go through the reflection in the side-view mirror. She watched quietly, anxiously from her seat as Martinez handed Milton a pole. She couldn't really make out what was being said. The crane attached to the truck bed roared to life. Jacobsen moved to the pit and attached the hook to something in the pit. He made a hand motion and the crane began to pull whatever was in the pit out.

Gracelyn expression went blank at what she saw. She slid herself to the middle of the bench where she couldn't see anything anymore and just sat, staring out the front of the truck.

Night had fallen fast, but the party was still going strong. Tiki torches were lit here and there around town. Food was still sitting on tables. Drinks were still being handed out. Gracelyn watched from her window as people walked around the streets below.

She had gone straight to her room when she and the others had gotten back. She hadn't bothered to stick around and question what was going on with the biters they had brought back. She had resigned herself to the fact that she shouldn't ask questions to which she really didn't want to know the answers.

She had changed into jeans and a tank top, tossing the dress onto her bed in a ball. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and sat down with her shoes in hand. She had to see what Merle had been talking about earlier; the _after party_. She didn't like the sound of it and something about the biters made everything seem worse.

Gracelyn walked out of her room, leaving the envelope and letter on the bed by her pillows. She headed down the stairs and out into the night. She followed behind the others on the way to an empty warehouse at the back of town. She recognized the building as being the one that hid the fence and street she had made her place to run to.

She could hear music and cheering. She could see flashing lights and smell alcohol on the air. Everyone was hyped about something. It felt like she was going to a college football game.

She stopped when she made it to the bear garden. Benches from a high school were set up on either side of what looked to be an arena of some sort. She spotted Philip and Andrea already seated on the bench amongst others. Milton sat only a few feet away on a bench lower. He didn't look as pleased to be there as the others were, as Philip was.

Gracelyn slowly moved closer to the benches and maneuvered her way to Milton. He looked up at her, almost in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" He sounded worried.

"Couldn't miss this right?" She replied, trying to sound cheerful and sat down beside him. She looked out at the "arena" and spotted figures on the ground. The strobe lights made it hard to distinguish who they were or what they were doing. "Is Merle here?"

"He's down there." Milton replied over the vast noise of the crowd. Gracelyn followed the finger Milton was using to point Merle out and spotted him.

"What is all this?" Gracelyn asked and looked around at the whole scene. She finally looked to him, catching his stare. Everyone around them suddenly stood up and cheered louder.

"You're about to find out." He replied and then slowly picked himself up from the bench. Gracelyn hesitated. She peered through the legs of the people before her, trying to make out what was happening below. She could hear people cheering out Merle and Martinez's names. Gracelyn's heart hammered in her chest and the palms of her hands became clammy. She didn't like this. Whatever _this _was, she didn't like it one bit.

Gracelyn looked up at Milton, watching his observant expression. She then looked around at the cheering persons around her. Some had their kids on their shoulders, standing with their families about them. Slowly, she stood up and her eye grew wide in disgust.

Merle and Martinez were fighting while biters stood chained about them in a circle. It was like a gladiator fight, but the lions were hungry, decaying human beings.

"What the Hell is this…?" Gracelyn couldn't hide the revulsion in her voice, in her heart. She shook her head, mouth agape and face contorted. Milton looked to her, expression remaining as observant and holding abhorrence. He lifted a hand and gently laid it on her shoulder. She looked to him and shook her head slowly.

"This is sick, Milton…" She breathed out, voice wavering. "Please… take me away. Take me somewhere far away from all of this; somewhere quiet."

He met her stare and searched her eyes. He could see her distress; something was there, floating in the ocean that was her eyes. After another moment he nodded. He let his hand fall from her shoulder and then looked around for a way to get out without being noticed by so many people.

"This way." He announced and nodded his head in a direction. He moved passed her, excusing himself and her as he led her away. The crowd suddenly became excited. Gracelyn lost sight of Milton as the cheerers all became exuberant in who they wanted to win or lose. Gracelyn felt someone grab her hand and give it a gentle tug. She followed the guidance and found who it belonged too.

Milton helped her down from the bleachers and led her away as she had asked him to do. They walked the empty streets together by the light of the tiki torches, hand in hand. Gracelyn looked back over her shoulder every now and then, hearing the cheers and screams from the _after party_. She couldn't believe what they were doing there. She couldn't believe they were alright with it; all of them.

Milton walked her to a building she was unfamiliar with. He held open the door for her and then followed in behind her. He led her up a set of stairs and then another until he stopped at a familiar door with the number 8B posted on it in gold. He pulled out a set of keys from his pants and unlocked the door, pushing it open to reveal his apartment.

Gracelyn didn't say anything as she entered. She walked right in and moved to the windows at the back of the living room. She peered out at the town, darkened and empty, and then looked at the great beacon that was the lights from the "arena."

Milton said nothing as he closed the door. He headed into the kitchen and pulled out a mug and then a box of tea bags. He turned on the faucet and ran the tap until the water was hot. He took the mug of tea into the living room and stopped short.

Gracelyn sat in the middle of the couch. She was hunched over, elbows on her legs, face hidden in her palms. Milton could hear her though. He could hear the soft cries, the sniffling. He moved closer very, very slowly. He sat the mug down on the coffee table and stared down at her for a long moment.

He was once again being put into a situation he was unaccustomed to. This time though, he knew what to do. He sat down on the couch beside her and placed a hand on her back. She lifted her head and wiped her face. She leaned back and looked at him, trying to force herself to smile.

"I'm sorry." She apologized and sniffled, wiping her face again. He shook his head and took a deep breath.

"It's alright, Grace." His voice was soft, comforting.

_"I love you, Grace…"_

Tears began to flood her eyes again at the nickname. Only one person had ever called her 'Grace' and he was dead. It broke her down to nothing. Milton wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, gripped his shirt tightly and cried.

Milton had no idea what he had done. He had no idea the floodgate he had just broken down. He also didn't care at the moment. The sounds of her cries very nearly broke his heart. They were full of sorrow and pain, unlike anything he had ever felt. He wondered just how much about the girl in his arms he really knew. He wondered, briefly, if he wanted to.

He wrapped his other arm around her and held her to him. He caught a whiff of her shampoo, cherry blossom, and closed his eyes. He tried to think of something to say, anything that would help her, but there was nothing. He wasn't good with these things, though, he desperately wished he were.

"It's alright." He murmured against her ponytail. It was all he could think to say to her. "Everything's going to be alright. You're going  
to be fine."

_"Everything's going to be alright, sweetheart. You're going to be fine."_

Gracelyn knew he wasn't doing it on purpose. Why would he be? How could he be? She hadn't told him anything of Elijah or her life before the world burned to ash.

"Milton," she started and slowly pulled herself away from him. She laid her hands on his shoulders and stared at him through blurry vision. "Before everything happened-"

"You don't have to, Grace." Milton interjected and shook his head. He pulled her hands from his shoulders and laid them between them. "You don't owe me anything."

"I want to tell you though." Gracelyn locked her eyes with his. She gave his hands a firm squeeze. "I want you to know who I am. All you have to do is listen."

They sat in silence for a long moment, eye locked together. Milton swallowed hard and wavered beneath Gracelyn's gaze. Her cheeks were red and stained by her tears, eyes puffy. Milton nodded his head once. That was all the confirmation Gracelyn needed to begin her long life story. Milton sat quietly, listening to every word as it passed over her lips.

She spoke softly, first about her childhood; about moving so constantly for her father's work; about her mother; her brothers. Then she spoke about the later years when she left home for Duke; about Meghan; about Elijah…

"A single shot rang out…" she began to drift away, her eyes falling off to the side as she stared out at nothing.

"They killed him?" Milton believed his voice betrayed him. He had wanted to sound strong, but he was in disbelief. "They killed your fiancé? Just like that?"

"No," Gracelyn was quick to remedy the confusion. She shook her head and looked towards the TV. She turned herself to face Milton fully, left leg bent and resting on the couch. She pulled up the bottom of her tank top, enough so he could see the angry scar on the flesh of her abdomen.

"You were shot." Milton instinctively and curiously outstretched a hand. His fingertips gently grazed the old wound, causing Gracelyn to flinch. He retracted his hand and looked between the scar and her face. "For you to have gotten shot there either Elijah was sitting or-"

"Or I tried to wrestle the gun from Liam." She replied and tugged her shirt down. Her gaze turned downwards towards the carpet of the floor. It was generic, cheap carpet that probably had come with the building when it was new. "Liam thought he had killed me. He was so afraid of it. He dropped the gun and ran out of the apartment."

"He just left?" Milton was surprised. Liam didn't seem the one to flee. Especially, from such a dire situation where his family was involved. He was a leader, a provider. It would seem right for that behavior to come from Kenneth, not Liam.

"He was in shock. He thought he had killed me; his little sister. He didn't know what else to do." Gracelyn clarified and tugged the hair-band from her ponytail. Her hair fell about her shoulders like golden silk. She ran a hand through it, finding and fixing the knots.

"So then what happened to Elijah?" Milton couldn't help but be curious about the man Gracelyn had been engaged to; whom she had loved so much as to take a bullet for.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore…" Gracelyn backed away from the topic she had started upon. "I told you what I wanted to say. Leave the rest of it alone."

Milton opened his mouth to push, but the look on Gracelyn's face made him act otherwise. He closed his mouth and watched her for a moment. He didn't know what to do now. He didn't know what to say, how to act. It was awkward. He was awkward and he knew it.

"Would you like me to walk you home?" He inquired and looked at the mug of what was surely cold tea. Gracelyn looked over at the mug and then at him.

"Would you mind if I stayed here?" Her voice sounded crestfallen. She was too tired to go anywhere, too defeated tonight. Milton didn't know what to say. Gracelyn took notice to his hesitation. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

She stood up and headed towards the door hastily. She felt stupid for having asked, for having put him in a situation like this. It wasn't fair to him. These weren't his problems. She wasn't his problem.

"Grace, wait." He called and stood up from the couch hurriedly. She stopped at the door and looked back at him. He moved closer and stopped at the end of the couch. He raised his hands nervously and pointed a finger towards the hallway, searching for the right words.

"I just… I need a minute to fix up some things." He looked at her and held up one finger, instructing her silently to wait a minute. He hurried to his room and began throwing things around. It was a mess. Everything was spotless except for his bedroom. He tossed clothes into his closet, threw papers on top of his desk into drawers and began pulling the sheets from his bed.

"Milton?" Gracelyn called out from the living room. She didn't dare venture down the hall without his approval. "I can just-"

"Just a minute!" He called back as he pulled out clean sheets from the closet. He unraveled them and began making the bed.

"Milton, really," Gracelyn began again, "I don't want to intrude more than I have already!"

"You haven't intruded at all." He replied and walked out of his bedroom. He stopped at the end of the hall, trying to catch his breath. "I insist you take the bed. You'll be more comfortable there."

"Milton," Gracelyn went to protest, but Milton shook his head.

"Please. I insist." He spoke again and stepped out of the hallway. Gracelyn licked her lips nervously and then headed towards the back room. She began to close the door and then stopped, opening it again.

"Milton?" She called gently, earning his attention. He looked back at her, pushed his glasses up and answered with a '_hm?_'. Gracelyn smiled genuinely, "Thank you."

He nodded as she closed the door and then walked into the living room. He sat down on the couch and stared at the empty wall ahead.


End file.
